Loyalties Lie
by Loopstagirl
Summary: Morgana doesn't want to kill Arthur. She wants to break him. There is only one place that will serve her needs: the dark tower.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners._

 _I thought it was time to get something posted. I've been struggling to write so much lately, but churned something out! I've had quite a few notifications come through on old stories the last few days, so it seemed like a good time to start posting._

 _I hope you enjoy this story! It is set after 4x02, but before 4x03._

* * *

Merlin stood in a daze, staring out of Arthur's window. His unfocused eyes didn't see anything though; he was too tired. Ever since they had saved Camelot, ever since they had lost Lancelot, Arthur had been determined to find Morgana.

They knew she was responsible for tearing the veil. There was no other explanation. What they didn't know, however, was why she had done it. She couldn't rule a ghost kingdom. Merlin decided she had become desperate – the loss of Morgause had left her without a direction or a plan and she would do anything to cause chaos.

Despite not having that insight, Arthur had reached the same conclusion and was determined to find her. Uther hadn't blinked when Arthur had returned and it had fuelled the prince further. Morgana hadn't tried to destroy Camelot; she had destroyed the king and that was not something Arthur could forgive.

They were all exhausted though. They had returned late last night from a three-day expedition scouring the eastern woods and Merlin couldn't remember the last time he had spent the entire night in his bed. There was either an emergency or Arthur insisted on riding out himself, despite having guards, knights and countless others to do that for him. If Arthur went, Merlin was there by his side as usual.

Hearing a noise behind him snapped Merlin out of his daydream. His hand jerked, wiping the cloth across Arthur's armour before he focused on the noise and turned around. Arthur was standing up, his face drawn but resigned. Merlin knew what he was going to say and threw down his cloth.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Arthur didn't have the energy to sound annoyed and that strengthened Merlin's conviction. He strode across the room until he was in front of the prince. He was also blocking the door, but they both knew if Arthur wanted to leave, Merlin couldn't stop him.

"You can't ride out again, Sire," Merlin continued, his voice soft. "You can barely stand."

"I have to set an example."

"The men already admire and respect you. What sort of example would it set if you fell off your horse due to exhaustion?"

"Don't be absurd, Merlin. I have more stamina than that." But Arthur's voice was wavering and he couldn't meet Merlin's eye. Merlin knew that he was getting through to the man. He put a hand on his shoulder and gently guided Arthur back to his seat. The fact that Arthur let it happen spoke volumes.

"You need to get some rest, Arthur," Merlin said. Arthur shook his head.

"I have to find her." Arthur's voice was soft and quiet, but heavy with emotion. He looked and sounded far older than he was. Merlin knew the feeling too well and hated that Arthur was experiencing the same. It was his job to protect his destiny – and not just from physical threats.

"Why?" Merlin asked cautiously. "You know she wants you dead."

"There has to be part of her still in there," Arthur muttered. "Some part that I can reach, that I can get through to. I can't give up on her."

This time, it was Merlin who couldn't look Arthur in the eye. He had hoped he was wrong about Morgana for so long, fighting to see the good in her. He had to believe it still existed…but not at the cost of his destiny. Morgana thought she was entitled to the throne and Arthur was one of the few standing in her way. Whatever good still existed was overshadowed by her ambition.

"A good warrior always knows when to retreat," Merlin said softly. Arthur looked up sharply, recognising his own words, but then he exhaled and slumped. It was as if all the fight had left him and he rested his head in his hands.

"How did we get here?" he murmured. Merlin had no answer though. Satisfied that he had got through to Arthur and the man wouldn't attempt any further expeditions for a day or so, he stood. Stroking the fire and lighting the candles, Merlin turned Arthur's chambers into a warm and comfortable place before folding down the bed.

"I'll get you some dinner," he said, knowing he didn't have time to prepare anything from scratch. Besides, he thought Arthur deserved something from the kitchens rather than Merlin's attempts. He needed something to make him feel content and sleepy – something to give him a good night's sleep.

Arthur nodded and Merlin slipped out. For a moment, he paused, leaning against the wall and trying to clear his mind. He hated seeing Arthur looking this defeated. The kingdom needed him now more than ever.

But it was more than that. Arthur wasn't just his prince and master, he was his friend. Merlin wished there was something he could do other than a hot meal to stop him from looking so haunted. He knew Lancelot's death weighed as heavily on Arthur as it did on Merlin. He also knew, however, that only time could heal grief.

Merlin pushed himself upright and headed towards the kitchens. If he could get Arthur settled for the evening, he would be able to return to Gaius and get a good night sleep himself. He also wanted to check on his mentor. Staying in the caves had weakened the physician, although Gaius would never admit it. The prince was not the only one who was tired.

Merlin walked the familiar corridors lost in thought. It was late and the normal bustle of servants had dwindled to a mere handful on last minute errands for their masters before they retired for the night. No one looked surprised to see Merlin and he would have smiled at the thought if he had the energy.

Just before he reached the kitchens, he turned into a deserted corridor. For a wild few seconds, Merlin thought he had taken a wrong turn. All the candles had been extinguished and the only light came from the moon filtering through a couple of windows. But then Merlin checked and knew he was in the right place.

"Hello?" he called, edging carefully into the corridor. It was chilly and Merlin scolded himself for being paranoid. A draft had clearly blown the candles out and because it was late, no one had bothered relighting them.

Shaking off his unease, Merlin set off. The sooner he returned to Arthur, the sooner he could get to bed. But when he was halfway down the corridor, Merlin stopped again. His quickened heartbeat matched the sound of footsteps hurrying up behind him.

Merlin started to turn, but a force shoved him between the shoulder blades and he stumbled. Throwing out his hands to break his fall, Merlin gasped as a solid weight slammed into his back, holding him against the wall. The stone was cold through his thin shirt and Merlin tried to buck backwards, attempting to alleviate the pressure on his chest.

He needed to catch his breath, clear his mind and use magic to deal with the problem. But before he could do either, a hand fisted in his hair. Merlin cried out in pain, twisting. A large man in guard's uniform was standing behind him but there was a vacant look in his eye. He didn't look as if he knew what he was doing…as if he had been enchanted.

His magic swelled and Merlin blasted the man away from him, being careful not to hurt him. This wasn't the guard's fault – Merlin recognised magic when it stared him in the face. He turned, only one thought lodged in his head: get back to Arthur.

But as he set off down the corridor, a hand snagged his ankle. Believing the guard to be unconscious meant he wasn't prepared and Merlin fell heavily. He tried to break his fall, but his wrist crumbled under him and he crashed down onto the stones with a yell. His head struck a glancing blow against the stone and Merlin felt his vision weave.

Before he knew what was happening, the guard was on top of him. This time, Merlin couldn't focus, couldn't defend himself as the man slammed his head down again.

All thoughts left Merlin's mind and his body slumped. He clung to consciousness, knowing that he had to protect Arthur. Hands grabbed him under the shoulders and Merlin felt himself being dragged along the darkened corridor.

He tried struggling, but his vision was spinning and dark spots littered it. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. When they came to a stop, Merlin couldn't stop a whimper escaping him as the guard unlocked a broom cupboard.

Merlin attempted to crawl back the way he had come. But the guard grabbed him with ease, throwing him into the cupboard. The final impact was too much for Merlin and darkness overwhelmed him.

Just before he lost consciousness, he heard the cupboard locking.

Arthur was in danger! He had to do something. He had to get out of here and…

Merlin passed out.

MMM

As soon as Merlin had left, Arthur stood and took up his servant's position by the window. Normally, gazing over his kingdom calmed him and settled his troubled thoughts, but not today. Now, he only saw what he had nearly lost and the price they had all paid to win Camelot back again.

Arthur had been taught to be loyal to those closest to him. He had always tried to live by those principles – it was why he refused to be named regent despite fulfilling a regent's role. He believed his father would get better and he refused to undermine the king.

When Morgana had first vanished, they had searched night and day for her. Arthur believed that was what he should be doing now, although what he wold do if they found her, he had no idea. He didn't know if he wanted to arrest her or just plea with her.

But, deep down, he knew that Merlin was right. The Morgana he knew was gone, and it was foolish to seek an enemy who wished him dead. More than anything, Arthur wanted answers. What had he ever done to her to make her feel that way? Or was it all about the throne?

Sighing, he leant against the wall, resting his head against the stone. He couldn't remember ever feeling this tired, and that included when he had over-trained as a young boy in order to impress his father. Uther might have noticed him for the first time that day, but Gaius had been furious. The memory made Arthur smile.

Hearing the door open behind him, Arthur glanced over his shoulder.

"I thought you were bringing me dinner?"

"You have to ride out," Merlin said. Arthur turned to face him. His manservant looked a little off, but Arthur couldn't place his finger on what was different. He frowned at the man. It was his eyes, Arthur decided. The usual spark – whether it be excitement, determination or plain irritation – that usually shone in Merlin's eyes was gone. They looked cold. Arthur turned back to hide his shudder.

"We've spoken about this. You made your position perfectly clear."

"You can't abandon your own," Merlin insisted. "Don't you have any sense of loyalty?"

Arthur spun around, furious. "Don't you dare," he growled. "Don't pretend you understand this."

Merlin didn't respond. He poured Arthur a goblet of wine, his back turned and his shoulders hunched. Then he thrust it at the prince, who took it begrudgingly.

Arthur took a sip, hoping that it would stop the argument in its tracks.

"Arthur-,"

He took a gulp this time to save himself from answering. Then he turned back to Merlin. He must have spun too quickly as a wave of dizziness overcame him.

"Are you feeling alright, Sire?" The coldness was in Merlin's voice now and when Arthur looked at him, he saw that his servant was smirking. It wasn't the usual smirk that crossed his face when Arthur admitted that Merlin had been right about something all along. It was sinister and Arthur blinked, trying to get his gaze to focus.

But as he tried to take a step forward, his legs buckled and lethargy washed over him. He put out a hand, thankfully finding the table-top and clutching at it as he tried to focus.

He looked at the cup and thought about the strange aftertaste.

"What have you done?" He muttered, his voice slurring. Merlin shrugged, sitting on top of the table and crossing his legs.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," he said. Slowly, almost casually, he reached over and shoved Arthur's hand from the table. Arthur's knees gave way and he fell. At the last minute, he put out a hand and managed to remain kneeling. He refused to collapse at Merlin's feet, even if the room was now swaying alarmingly. Tiredness oozed from every fibre of his being and it was taking all of Arthur's will-power to keep his eyes open.

"Merlin?"

"Arthur!"

The door crashed open with an almighty bang. Arthur blinked and stared. Merlin was standing in the doorway.

But Merlin was also sitting on the table.

By the time he blinked again, the action getting slower and harder every time he did it, one of the Merlin's was crouched beside him, his hand on his forehead. Arthur looked up and knew instantly that this was _his_ Merlin. There was dried blood down the side of his face and he looked pale, but that spark was burning brightly in his eyes.

"Wha-?" Arthur slurred, looking back at the table. Merlin followed his gaze and stood.

"What have you done to him? Who are you?"

"Oh but Merlin," the figure said, "I'm you."

Arthur forced himself to sit up straighter. There was something familiar about those mocking words, the way they were delivered…

"Morgana," Merlin whispered and Arthur's suspicions were confirmed. The fake Merlin gave a cold laughter and his hand twisted sharply in the air. The door shut and Arthur heard the lock catch. At the same time, the candles and fire were out, leaving the room lit only by moonlight. Arthur shivered and hoped no one saw him.

"I won't let you hurt him," Merlin said. Arthur looked up at him even as he fought to remain conscious. He should be defending Merlin, not the other way around.

The figure on the table hopped down and the air around him shimmered. As Arthur watched, his servant transformed into his sister.

"I don't think you have a say in it," Morgana said, her voice like icy shards that penetrated Arthur's heart. Before Merlin could make a come-back, Morgana's hand shot out and a harsh word tore from her lips.

Merlin was thrown off his feet, hitting the wall. Arthur watched in horror as his feet left the floor and Merlin's hands rose to his throat. As he choked, hands clawing at invisible magic, Arthur realised that Morgana was strangling him. Judging by how hard Merlin was struggling to breathe, she was succeeding.

Arthur looked around. His sword was on the other side of the room and in his disorientated state, he knew he would never make it across the room without Morgana stopping him. But she was standing next to him, clearing not expecting Arthur to offer any resistance now she had drugged him. The potion was strong, Arthur could feel it coursing through his veins.

But he had also had enough of people underestimating him.

Grunting with the effort, he threw himself forward. He caught Morgana around the knees, sending them both tumbling to the ground. A blast of magic caught him in the chest, sending him flying back. Arthur landed on his back, completely winded with dark spots dancing in his vision. But he could hear Merlin take a few rasping breaths and knew that, for now, Merlin was still breathing.

Arthur rolled over onto his knees. Keeping low, he used the table for cover as he crawled across the room towards his servant. One glance told him that Morgana was still trying to regain her breath from the unexpected fall.

"Merlin?" Arthur whispered, grabbing his servant's wrist and feeling for a pulse. It was thready and weak, but it was there. Merlin's eyes were shut and his head lolled limply from side to side when Arthur shook him.

Morgana's laugh filled his chambers. But gone were the days when it used to fill him with warm and pride. It was hollow and empty.

"This is your fault, Arthur," she said. Arthur heard her come closer and knew he should stand to face her. He couldn't. He was so tired of all of this, and knew it wasn't just the drug.

"Why are you doing this?" he said wearily. Morgana stopped next to him, her hand on his shoulder. Her nails dug in painfully.

"You are in my way, dear brother. I've already destroyed our father. Once I have broken you, Camelot will be mine."

Arthur let out a weak laugh. "If you think you will break me, then you never knew me."

"Everyone has a weakness, Arthur. And unfortunately for you, I know all of yours."

She gestured towards Merlin's prone form. He was still fighting for breath and Arthur knew he needed to get to Gaius. But the door was locked and Arthur knew this was what Morgana wanted.

"He's just a servant," Arthur said quietly. "I understand if you want me dead. But why Merlin?"

"There is so much you don't know," Morgana said. "Poor Arthur, always running blindly into situations just because his father told him to."

"Like you're any different," Arthur said, anger helping clear his mind. "Always challenging him just so he would notice you."

Morgana's fingers tightened painfully on his shoulder.

"I was naïve. Not anymore. Now I am powerful, and Camelot will have a powerful ruler."

Before Arthur could say anything, Morgana began chanting. Dark words filled his chambers and his head and Arthur realised that his rooms were vanishing before him. The last thing he saw was Merlin's unconscious body before he was sucked into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

_I went to check this, then found the chapter was only half finished. Oops._

 _Thank you for the support for the first chapter - it's great knowing the fandom is still going strong! I hope you continue to enjoy it!_

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Darkness surrounded him when Merlin opened his eyes. His head was pounding and he could feel blood down the side of his face. He lifted his hand, touching his head gingerly as a soft groan escaped him. He blinked, trying to focus his vision, and realised with a jolt that he was sprawled in a storage cupboard. The broom digging into his back confirmed his thoughts.

"Arthur!" His cry was weak and Merlin awkwardly climbed to his feet. He stumbled over the buckets but when he tugged at the door, he wasn't surprised to find it locked. Someone had got to a great deal of trouble to bewitch a guard and ensure that Merlin remained out of the way.

There was only one person Merlin could think of who would go to those lengths. And it didn't bode well for either him or Arthur.

" _Aliese!"_

The lock clicked and Merlin pulled the door open, stumbling out into the corridor. The candles were still out and he had no idea how long he had been unconscious for. Leaving the cupboard door swinging open, Merlin ran towards Arthur's chambers. The fear that he might be too late lent him speed, helping him to overcome the dizziness.

Arthur's door was shut but Merlin could see the light spilling from under the crack. He knew that Arthur was in there. He slowed to a walk, trying to catch his breath. He had no idea how he was going to explain to the prince that Morgana was in the castle. Merlin could normally read Arthur's emotions, but when it came to Morgana, the prince was a mystery. Pain and betrayal had closed him off, even to his servant. Merlin only hoped the blood coating one side of his face would convince Arthur that he was being earnest.

He lifted a hand to knock, listening hard. He heard a soft murmur, recognising Arthur's voice even if he couldn't hear what the prince was saying. But Merlin had no idea who he was talking to. Knowing he couldn't hesitate, Merlin shoved at the door, letting it bounce off its hinges.

But Merlin didn't hear the crash. He was staring, eyes wide, unable to believe what he was seeing. He blinked, for a moment believing that the blow to his head had been harder than he initially thought.

He was seeing himself.

Then he caught sight of Arthur sprawled across the floor and he forgot his potential madness.

"Arthur!"

Merlin hurried across the room, resting his hand on Arthur's forehead. He was cool, which was a relief. Whatever he had been given wasn't having an adverse effect other than making him woozy. Merlin recognised the effects of a sleeping draught when he saw one.

"Wha-?" Arthur slurred, struggling to focus on his face. Merlin stood up, making sure that he was shielding Arthur.

"What have you done to him? Who are you?" Merlin thought he knew the answer. If he concentrated and relaxed his vision, he could see the shimmer of magic around the other figure. He knew Morgana was close by to have enchanted the guard, but he didn't think she would enter the castle.

"Oh, but Merlin," the figure said, "I'm you."

"Morgana," he said quietly.

Merlin knew it was Morgana. The familiar mockery in her voice removed any doubt. She had grown more powerful and Merlin knew she would go to any lengths to get her way. She was dangerous, more so than she had ever been before.

"I won't let you hurt him," Merlin said. It didn't matter what magic she had studied. Merlin was not going to let her hurt his destiny. Morgana had done so much harm already – Merlin had to stop her from causing more.

It was a relief when she transformed back into herself. It was hard to feel hatred when he was looking at himself.

"I don't think you have a say in it."

Merlin sighed at the loathing in her voice. He knew this was his fault; he should have tried to help her more when she was discovering her powers. But he knew the anger and resentment must have been smouldering away long before Morgana knew what she was capable of. Having magic just gave her an excuse to lash out.

He lifted his hand, preparing to defend Arthur, no matter the cost. But Morgana had been preparing for this and she was ready before him. His feet left the floor and Merlin slammed into the wall, the air driven from him. He fought to clear his vision, adamant that he wouldn't black out for a second time.

Then he felt the magic wrapping around his neck. The touch of the magic burnt like ice and Merlin choked, realising instantly that she was blocking his airways. He tried to lift his hand, tried to do something, but the grip was too strong and he gasped, fighting to breathe.

He saw Arthur start to move and struggled harder. He wouldn't let Arthur put himself in a vulnerable position just because he hadn't reacted quickly enough. But the magic tightened and Merlin would have cried out in pain if he could spare the breath to do so. He tilted his head back, attempting to breathe through his nose, but he could feel he was losing strength.

He tried sending his magic out. But it betrayed him. Nothing happened and as Morgana's grip tightened again, blackness clouded his vision. He choked…

And suddenly took in a deep breath!

The magic had loosened.

Merlin tried to breathe, but his airways protested against working and there was nothing he could do as the wound on his head throbbed in time with his thudding heart and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

He didn't feel himself hit the floor.

"-lin? Merlin!" The concerned voice broke through the fog in his mind and Merlin groaned. Then he groaned again at how much the first one had hurt and ended up coughing harshly as his damaged throat protested.

Slowly, his eyes opened. Gaius was crouched over him, worry etched into his features. Relief flickered in Gaius' eyes when he saw his ward was looking back at him.

"What happened?" He asked gently, his hand on Merlin's elbow helping him sit up. Merlin rested back against the wall, waiting for his vision to clear. By the time he could see straight, Gaius was examining the wound on his head. Merlin pushed his hands away and attempted to lurch to his feet.

He ended up clutching the wall as his legs threatened to buckle.

"Merlin," Gaius chided. He too stood and pushed a chair over. Merlin sank into it, staring around the empty room in despair.

"Merlin, what happened?" Gaius repeated, his voice kind. Merlin looked up at him.

"Morgana," he said. "She was here." He swallowed as he looked around the room. "She's taken Arthur."

"Where?"

Merlin shook his head. "No idea."

If she had wanted Arthur dead, she would have killed him and left Merlin to find his body. But Merlin knew Morgana: Arthur was in her way to the throne and she wouldn't risk that for anything. Whatever she wanted with the Crown Prince, it wouldn't be good for Arthur.

"I have to find him," Merlin muttered, standing up. Gaius put a hand on his shoulder. Merlin knew the attacks had drained him when his mentor was able to push him back into the seat with one hand.

"Have you stopped seeing in double vision yet?"

"Yes," Merlin lied even as he squinted at the physician to work out which was the real one. Gaius didn't look impressed.

"You can't go out in that state, Morgana will kill you," he said bluntly. "You're lucky she hasn't already."

"It doesn't matter, he needs me."

The hand on Merlin's shoulder didn't disappear.

"You don't even know where to start looking."

"I-," Merlin trailed off, realising that Gaius was right. He slumped back in the chair and Gaius finally let him go. Merlin's mind was racing. Where would Morgana take Arthur? She would know his skills, know that he wouldn't be easy to hold prisoner. She would need somewhere with proper cells to stand any chance, somewhere she could reinforce…

"Cendred's castle," Merlin muttered.

"What's that, now?"

"She'll have taken him to Cendred's castle." Merlin looked up to see Gaius watching him with a disbelieving expression. Merlin stood.

"Why not? There is no king there now and Morgana would need a base. It's the only place she knows she has access to that has any chance of holding Arthur prisoner."

Gaius looked as if he was going to argue, then his expression cleared and he nodded.

"Very well. I'll send for Elyan. Drink this." He pushed a cup into Merlin's hand, who looked at it suspiciously.

"What is it?"

"A strengthening draught. I know I can't stop you."

"And Elyan?"

"He has spent the most time in Cendred's castle. If you're right, it would help if you knew where you were going rather than blundering in like normal."

Merlin blushed but couldn't argue. Gaius disappeared from the room and Merlin stared around Arthur's empty chambers.

"Hold on, Arthur," he whispered. "I'm coming. Just hold on."

MMM

He was in darkness when he opened his eyes. But Arthur could feel solid ground beneath him and knew that wherever Morgana had transported them, they had arrived. Opening his eyes a crack, Arthur glanced around, keeping his breathing even and soft. When he was certain that he was alone, Arthur opened his eyes properly, sat up and looked around. What he saw didn't fill him with confidence.

He appeared to be in a cell. At least, the solid door with a few bars set high up gave him that impression. Arthur gingerly got to his feet, taking a few deep breaths to stop his head from swimming and tried taking a step.

The clink of metal made him look down. A manacle was locked around his ankle and Arthur's gaze followed it, only to see it anchored securely into the stone wall. He gave an experimental tug, but although the chain rattled, he couldn't feel any give in it.

Arthur took a few steps and knew that he wouldn't be able to reach the door. He stretched as far as he could, hoping to see through the bars so he would have some inclination about where he was. But he couldn't see: the corridor beyond was in darkness and even straining his eyes revealed nothing.

His exploration of the cell also revealed nothing. There were no identifying marks or crests, no symbols of any sort that gave away where Morgana had transported them to. They could still be in Camelot for all Arthur knew – he literally had no idea. It wasn't a reassuring thought. If he had no idea, how was anyone else supposed to find him? Not that Arthur needed rescuing, he was certain he could get out of this himself. But it would be nice to have some company for the journey back.

But thinking of his men made him think of Merlin and Arthur faltered, running a hand through his hair. Was his servant even alive? They had been through so much together that the thought Morgana might have succeeded where so many others had failed and killed Merlin was not one Arthur could stomach. Merlin had to be alright: he always was.

Arthur knew that dwelling on Merlin's fate would not help him. Negative thoughts were not conducive with escaping. He took a breath and slowly exhaled, regaining control of his emotions. His father's upbringing might have been cold, but it had its uses. Morgana would not see that he was afraid.

Of course, Arthur knew there was every chance she would see through his pretence. She always had been able to read him better than anyone else, apart from Merlin. She had also had the same upbringing and knew what he would be doing. The only thing Arthur could think of was escaping before he had to face her.

Looking around left him with no inspiration. There was nothing in the cell that would help him and he had no weapons with him. He was dressed in a casual shirt, loose breeches and boots with a belt to hold the shirt in. He hadn't planned on having company that evening. If, indeed, it was still the same evening.

Exhaling sharply, Arthur lent back on the wall and slid down it until his knees were pulled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and balanced his chin on top. His head was still woozy from the transportation and his stomach rolled in protest at the magic. He breathed in through his nose, controlling himself until he no longer felt as if his body was about to betray him.

He had to think this through. He was alone and weapon-less, in an unknown destination with an enemy who wanted him dead. He had been in this position more than once before and had always come out on top.

But Arthur knew this time was different. For one thing, he didn't have Merlin with him. Arthur had no idea how, but Merlin was lucky; he had never been badly injured and always seemed to find a way out of trouble. Arthur still had no idea how his servant had remained in Camelot for the entire time Catrina had accused him of theft and had the entire garrison searching for him. Merlin's optimism rubbed off on the prince, and having the bumbling idiot to protect helped Arthur focus on the problem at hand.

There was no Merlin to protect this time – it was already too late for that. The other problem was that he wasn't up against an enemy, not really. He knew he couldn't physically beat Morgana – even if he had a sword, Morgana would use her magic against him from a distance. But even if he had been armed, Arthur still wasn't convinced he could stop her. Part of him still believed in her, still thought she was the woman he had grown up with. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to kill her.

Arthur's fingers slid into his hair and he gripped tight with frustration. The pain brought him to his senses though: sitting here feeling sorry for himself was not going to help him. He dropped his hands and slowly stood. Remaining stock-still, he let his gaze sweep the cell. By keeping his eyes relaxed, he took in far more than if he had focused on certain things specifically.

There was nothing that would help him escape. But there were a few loose stones that might be pried loose if Arthur could get a grip on them. They might help break the chain or be used as a weapon. Dropping to his knees, Arthur reached for the first block, his fingers scraping against the rough stone.

Although he knew it was going to hurt, Arthur ignored the physical discomfort as he tried to ease the stones out of the wall. With no window and the corridor beyond being in darkness, he had no idea how much time passed. It was disconcerting not knowing, especially as he didn't know how long he had been unconscious for.

Had the alarm been raised back in Camelot yet? Did the guards know their prince was missing? Arthur hoped so. Not that he believed they would be able to find him. But because that meant someone had been to his room, found Merlin and hopefully fetched Gaius. Or the servant had regained consciousness himself. Arthur didn't have time to feel guilty that his servant had been caught in the cross-fire (again), so telling himself that Merlin was alright helped stop images of the man's sprawled body from playing across his mind.

Eventually, Arthur knew the stones wouldn't come loose. All he had done was make his fingers bleed. Giving the wall a final kick, then hopping and cursing his painful toe, Arthur sat back down again. His hand went to the manacle on his ankle. If he couldn't find a way out of the chain, he wouldn't be able to escape. Deciding that dealing with that one small problem was an easier task, Arthur examined the lock.

Without a key, it wouldn't be an easy task. Instead, Arthur followed the chain, link by link, and searching for a weak spot. It was old but strong and even the seal into the wall was strong. Arthur cursed, his hand automatically going to his belt and closing around thin air when he remembered he had no weapon with him.

But as his hands brushed his belt, he glanced down. The buckle was sturdy, made by the best talent in Camelot. Arthur glanced back at the door, his mind racing.

His fingers ghosted with the buckle. But before he could get a grip, he heard footsteps in the corridor beyond. He slumped back against the wall, attempting to look nonchalant despite his pounding heart. A patrol stalked past his door, their flickering torches making Arthur's eyes water. Although one sneering face glanced through the door, no one unlocked it. Arthur knew they were under orders not to interact with him, which meant that Morgana was still around somewhere.

Deciding that understanding the guards' patrol patterns would assist him in escaping, Arthur remained sitting. He needed to know his enemy and regain his strength before making his escape. But his hand once again touched his belt and he didn't feel as helpless as before.

He had a plan. Now all he had to do was wait for the right moment to implement it.


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm sorry for the delay, life has a habit of getting in the way!_

* * *

Merlin waited until Gaius left the room before standing up again. He went slowly this time, testing his reactions and pausing every time the dizziness threatened to topple him. He didn't have time to take things slow, but it would be worse if he passed out again. He knew Gaius would go to drastic measures to keep him safe if he thought he had to.

The draught worked though and it only took Merlin a few moments before his legs supported his weight properly and he took a few steps around the room. Satisfied that he wasn't about to fall on his face, Merlin moved towards the door.

But it had taken longer than he realised. As soon as he reached for the handle, the door opened from the other side. Merlin sprang back guiltily but Gaius sighed and rolled his eyes at him. Elyan followed him in, looking confused. That expression only intensified when he looked around the room and Merlin knew that Gaius hadn't told Elyan what had happened.

"Merlin, sit down," Gaius ordered but Merlin couldn't. He directed Elyan to a seat instead and started pacing as he explained what had happened (leaving out the parts where he had used magic) and his suspicions about where Morgana had taken Arthur.

Elyan nodded slowly when Merlin had finished.

"It's possible," he said slowly. "The place is reinforced with magic – I could sense it when I was there. I also couldn't escape."

"You were in the cells," Merlin said, "how would you have been able to escape?"

"I'm a blacksmith, Merlin. Even without tools, I should have been able to make some impression. But I couldn't do anything. The cells were reinforced with magic."

"Morgause," Merlin muttered. She had been behind Elyan's imprisonment: Cendred had just been her puppet. But now she was gone, it was clear her sister was following in her footsteps and learning from her. He perched on the edge of the table, running a hand through his hair.

"Do you know your way around the castle?"

"Enough," Elyan admitted. "They took me to different places when they tried questioning me. If we can get in, I can take you to the cells."

"We can get in," Merlin muttered distractedly, thinking of the tunnels.

"We can't use them," Elyan said. Merlin looked up at him.

"What?"

"The tunnels. Morgana knows about them. And she knows that Arthur knows about them. She won't leave such an obvious route open for a potential rescue or escape."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Merlin!"

Merlin winced at Gaius chiding, knowing that he was being hard on Elyan. He opened his mouth, but his friend held up a hand.

"You're worried, I get that. But you're not in this alone. I'll get the others – Leon will be able to come up with a plan, I'm sure."

"It will take too long," Merlin protested. As much as it touched him that his friends would risk everything to help him find Arthur, Merlin knew that the longer they delayed, the longer Morgana had to put her plan in action.

"We'll be ready to ride by first thing in the morning," Elyan promised. He stood up, nodded to them both and strode towards the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle, looking back over his shoulder at Merlin.

"We'll find him. You have my word."

Merlin forced himself to smile and nodded as Elyan left. His mind was already racing and he didn't protest when Gaius took his arm, drawing him to his feet.

"You need to rest," his mentor said firmly. "Otherwise you won't be able to keep up with them."

"I'm fine," Merlin muttered, barely listening. But he was telling the truth. His magic might have abandoned him during Morgana's attack, but it was aiding him now. He could feel his power racing through his body, strengthening him and instinctively trying to heal the damage. His voice was stronger and his throat didn't hurt as badly. His head was still pounding, but not with the same intensity as before.

Gaius harrumphed and didn't let go of his arm until they had reached their shared chambers. Neither of them spoke while Gaius forced a bowl of stew into his hands and Merlin ate automatically. He wasn't a fool; he knew he needed to get his strength up.

But eating without complaint made Gaius believe he was being complacent.

"I need to go on my rounds," the old man said. "Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine." Merlin glanced towards his room but then realised that Gaius had seen his action. "I might go to bed."

The physician nodded approvingly. "Send word if you feel worse."

Merlin nodded and Gaius picked up his medicine bag. But, like Elyan, he paused before he left the room.

"You will find him," Gaius said softly. "But be careful. Morgana should not be underestimated. She could have easily killed you tonight. Don't give her another choice."

"I won't," Merlin said, hearing the sincerity in Gaius' voice and seeing how grave he looked. "I promise."

He waited until the latch had caught and Gaius' heavy footsteps faded. Then he sighed, put his bowl down and stood up. He had meant what he said – he had no intention of letting Morgana kill him. He had to keep Arthur safe and that meant staying alive in order to protect him.

But he also had no intention of waiting until dawn for the knights to be ready. Morgana could have killed Arthur by then. Tortured him, broken his spirit and body… Merlin shivered and pushed the thought from his mind. Arthur was strong: it would take more than a few hours for Morgana to break him, regardless of what she threw at him.

The thought was in his mind though and lent urgency to his movements as he hurried up to his room. He had already failed Arthur today, he was not going to let the prince down again.

Merlin grabbed his bag and hurriedly stuffed a few clothes haphazardly into it. He pulled his spell book out, quickly flicking through it and memorising a couple of defensive spells as quickly as he could. His hands trembled as Merlin turned the pages and his heart pounded as he studied a spell of attack. This wasn't who he was, but he couldn't let Morgana hurt Arthur. Not again.

He slammed the book shut and pushed it back under his bed as soon as he knew what he was doing. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he moved back into the main chamber and raided Gaius' food supplies. He knew – hoped – that his mentor would understand and wouldn't be angry with him. Merlin didn't envy him the task of telling the knights that Merlin had slipped out while they had all been sleeping.

The castle was deserted as Merlin hurried through and he knew it had to be the middle of the night at least. No wonder Elyan had looked so confused – Gaius had probably dragged him from his bed, knowing that Merlin wouldn't be able to wait for answers. It was still dark though and Merlin knew it would give him a couple of hours head-start on the knights. They knew where he was going and Merlin would be grateful for the back-up when they arrived. He just couldn't wait for them.

The horses were used to his presence and barely moved as he slipped into the stables. He chose one that he trusted and carefully saddled him before leading him out into the night. The horse tossed its head, clearly not happy about the dark and Merlin ran a hand down its nose.

"It's alright," he murmured. "We're going to find Arthur. You want that too, don't you?"

He knew the horse couldn't understand him but his soft voice calmed the animal and he stood docile while Merlin mounted. He glanced around, checking that no one was watching, before touching his mount with his heels and trotting out of the courtyard.

As soon as he reached the border of the forest, Merlin let the horse have his head and broke into a canter. He had a long way to go before he reached the castle and no time to lose. Morgana had transported Arthur away using magic. Merlin knew she could move him at any given moment and hoped Arthur was behaving himself. He didn't need Arthur giving Morgana a reason to move him to somewhere more secure before Merlin reached them.

The cold wind returned Merlin to full alertness and he kept his magic active as he moved through the forest. He was fully aware that Morgana was not the only danger he faced with this journey and a man riding alone at night was an easy target.

A bitter grin twisted Merlin's lips. Any bandit that tried to attack him was in for a nasty surprise.

Merlin had had enough of losing for one day.

MMM

Arthur sat against the wall, the cold stone seeping through his shirt and making him shiver. He didn't move though, his heart thudding hard as he listened to the footsteps approaching his cell. He had to make whoever this was believe that he was defeated, not that he had spent the last however many hours looking for a way out.

As he listened, he recognised the familiar _click_ of heels and his slump was for real. Morgana had taken everything from him: his kingdom, his father and the woman he had grown up with. He didn't know how to fight her, wasn't even certain that he wanted to despite her making it clear that she wanted him dead.

But thoughts of his father – their father – made him straighten again. He would not let her see that she had got to him. He stood up, standing tall and proud as a key scraped in a lock. Inwardly, Arthur smirked. He could work with a lock – bolts, on the other hand, would have been much harder to deal with.

The door swung open and there she was. A torch was somewhere behind her and the flickering flame cast her in both shadow and light. She was still beautiful though. Still proud and defiant. Still the Morgana he knew.

"Brother," she spat, moving into the cell. One gesture and her guards remained outside. Arthur knew why. She had powerful magic. There wasn't anything he could do to touch her. Not physically, at least.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly. "You want the throne, I understand that. So why keep me alive?"

"My men were denied their victory when you took Camelot back," Morgana said, not looking at him. "Killing you would be too quick for them."

"They're not your men. They're Morgause's and you have inherited them. Their loyalty is not to you and you know it."

"They will do what I tell them," Morgana said, anger undermining her cool demeanour. She visibly took a breath. "And they have no intention of letting you escape."

"You think they are a match for me?"

"I think your smugness will be your undoing, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur grinned – she was giving him exactly what he wanted. "You've been saying that for years. Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

Morgana turned to face him, her eyes flashing in the darkness. Arthur braced himself, but she took a breath and the magic faded away.

"I know you well enough," she said silkily. "I know how desperate you are for your father to acknowledge you. For him to praise you and tell you that you have done well. I know how much you need your precious people to believe in you, as without them you are nothing but a lost little boy."

A few months ago, Arthur would have flinched at her words. But seeing how her attack had destroyed his father had changed Arthur. Uther was no longer the man the young prince had always looked up to. He no longer needed those things.

"The people do believe in me," he said calmly. "They saw your reign of terror and they saw who liberated them from it. I have everything I want."

"You-," Morgana took a step towards him and stopped. She peered at him in the darkness. "You've changed."

"So have you." Arthur moved forwards, his chain clinking loudly in the silence. "But I know the woman that I always admired and respected is in there somewhere. Hate can't consume you entirely."

"Ask your father that," Morgana said. But her voice had lost its edge and when she suddenly moved away from him, Arthur knew that he had won. She had come here to goad him and found a calmer and stronger prince than the one she had left behind all those months ago. She wasn't the one in control of the conversation and she knew it.

"You will die by my hand, Arthur Pendragon," Morgana said. She moved towards the door but Arthur remained where he was. She wanted to see him struggle and fight and he would not give her that satisfaction. He would fight – when he chose and not before.

"But not tonight."

She swept out and the door slammed behind her. Arthur let out a long breath when he was certain she was gone, leaning back against the wall. It was good to know that he could fool her. He took a few moments to control his trembling hands, then pulled off his belt.

Crouching down, he used the point on the buckle and set to work on the chain. He had known that she would come to gloat; she wouldn't have been able to help herself. But it gave him an idea of numbers – he knew roughly how many of Morgause's men had survived Camelot – and told him about the lock on the door.

He also knew that he had unnerved Morgana and she wouldn't be returning any time soon. Now was his chance to act.

It took a lot of cursing before the manacle finally fell open. Arthur rubbed his ankle before straightening up and moving towards the door. It was an easy lock to pick – just as he thought it would be. They wouldn't have made sure he couldn't reach it otherwise.

The door creaked open and Arthur winced, hoping that no one was nearby. He squeezed out, refusing to open the door any further, but then pulled it shut behind him. If anyone came to check on him, it would buy him an extra few moments if they still had to open the door.

Keeping close to the wall, hiding in the shadows, Arthur stole along. But after a few turns, he stopped, realising that he knew where he was. This was where Cendred had taken him prisoner before, when they had come to rescue Elyan. Arthur swore, realising only now that Morgana had orchestrated the entire thing to try and get him killed.

Arthur didn't want to consider how long she had been working against him, plotting his demise.

Knowing where he was going helped. He came across a couple of guards and managed to knock one out before they realised he was there. Grabbing the fallen man's sword, Arthur engaged and quickly despatched the other man. But the noise had travelled and it only took a few moments before he was fighting again.

The men were vicious but their anger made them clumsy and Arthur was able to avoid most of their attacks. But it didn't matter that he was the reigning champion of Camelot when he was outnumbered ten to one and in limited manoeuvring space.

It didn't take long until one of the men slipped past his guard and drew his sword down Arthur's arm. The cut was shallow but the pain was a distraction that Arthur couldn't afford. He knew he had to keep moving – if he could lead the men into a wider space, he would have a better chance.

But every step he took had to be paid for with blood and Arthur's arms were soon trembling. Whatever Morgana had drugged him with hadn't yet left his system entirely and he couldn't focus the way he should have been able to. He made it down one corridor and into the next, cursing at more men spilling to meet him, before he realised they were playing with him. If they used their numbers at once, surrounding him entirely, he wouldn't stand a chance. They were sending just a few at once, baiting him into coming forward.

Arthur turned on his heel and ran back the way he had come. He refused to dance to Morgana's tune and instead stumbled past his already fallen opponents and dashed down a dark and cold corridor. An angry shout came from behind him and Arthur knew he had called their bluff correctly – they had been luring him out.

He gasped as he ran, sweat trickling into his eyes and a stitch stealing his breath. He wasn't strong enough for this.

Suddenly, something caught him around the ankles and Arthur went flying. He fell heavily, landing on his already injured arm but bit back his cry of pain just in time. Pressure was holding him down and even as he strained to lift his head, Morgana came into view. Her face was cast in shadows and Arthur couldn't read her expression.

"This is too easy for you," she said. "I have something better in mind."

"I thought you had to please your men?" Arthur gasped and the pressure holding him down increased.

"They answer to me!" Morgana spat. "And soon, so shall you."

"Go to hell."

"Oh dear brother, I'm already there. And this time, you're coming along for the ride."

Her hand lifted and she started speaking in a different language, ancient, dark words that made Arthur shudder and his stomach roll. The corridor began disappearing again and he sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do as Morgana transported them somewhere else.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you again for your continued support, I really appreciate it!_

* * *

Merlin rode long and hard through the night, only stopping to let the horse drink his fill when they crossed a small stream. As golden streaks brushed the horizon, he stopped, looking back the way he had come. Although the trees concealed the path, he knew that Camelot was far behind him. The knights wouldn't have to track him – they knew where he was going – but they would move cautiously, not pushing their mounts the way Merlin had done.

He dismounted, stumbling as his legs cramped in protest. Holding onto the saddle, he steadied himself, taking a few deep breaths to ease the dizziness. Morgana's attack had left him with a pounding headache but Merlin didn't have time to dwell on it now.

 _Arthur_ didn't have time for him to dwell on it now.

Leading the horse to a small clearing with lush tufts of grass sprouting everywhere, Merlin tied him to a tree and rummaged through the saddlebag. Pulling out a chunk of bread and the water skin, he slid down until he was sitting with his legs in front of him and quickly started to eat. He didn't know that he was hungry until the first bite crossed his lips, then realised he was famished.

He finished the small meal and paced the clearing a few times, attempting to get the feeling back in his limbs. He would be no good to Arthur if he couldn't stand when he arrived at the castle. But while he allowed himself the luxury of stretching, Merlin was aware that every second he remained here put Arthur in more danger. The prince wouldn't have said luxury; Merlin was convinced that Morgana would keep him chained in the smallest cell. She wouldn't risk him getting free.

But as Merlin remounted and pointed the horse east, his mind was racing. Arthur was an obstacle for Morgana. If she wanted to kill him, however, she would have done it back in Camelot. It would be a powerful message to the kingdom if she killed the prince in his own chambers and got away with it. They had been defenceless, after all. She wouldn't have kidnapped him just to kill him at a later date.

Worry churned through Merlin's thoughts and stomach. If Morgana wasn't planning to kill him, then what did she want? Merlin knew she was good at manipulating people to do her will for her, but Arthur was just as stubborn as his sister. He loved his kingdom too much to give in to her.

Merlin flicked the reins, encouraging the horse to move faster. His thoughts were terrifying him: what was happening to Arthur?

He broke free of the forest by the time the sun had fully risen. Merlin knew the knights would be on their way. He felt bad about leaving them behind, but at least this way, he could do whatever it took to save Arthur, then they would be there to help escort the prince home.

The rolling hills would have been beautiful if Merlin wasn't blinded to everything but his fear for Arthur. Now they were clear from the obstructions the forest threw in their path, Merlin gave the horse his head and let the animal set the pace. They raced through their surroundings, as if the horse could sense Merlin's urgency. It wouldn't have surprised the warlock; animals were often in-tune with his power.

By the time the sun was at its peak, Cendred's deserted castle was in sight. Merlin dismounted and tethered the horse again. He stumbled over the rocks as he slipped towards the concealed tunnel entrance, using his magic to scout ahead. But before he reached the entrance, he knew he couldn't get in this way. The tunnel had been blocked by a rockfall, although whether it was natural or Morgana sealing the exits, he had no idea.

Swearing, Merlin hurried back up the stone beach and took shelter among the few sparse trees. Staring at the castle, his gaze frantically searched for another way in that wasn't through the front door. He couldn't see anything though. Merlin bit his lip, his brow crumpled in thought. Going through the entrance would announce to everyone in the castle that he was there – and such an entrance could cost Arthur his life before Merlin reached him.

On the other hand, they wouldn't expect a single man to just burst in. Merlin had magic on his side and he knew that unless he came face to face with Morgana herself, every other problem could be dealt with by just a wave of his hand. He knew he would have to move fast though – if the alarm was sounded, getting Arthur out would be difficult.

Making up his mind, Merlin crouched low as he ran from the cover of the trees. The path to the castle doors was steep and Merlin ended up scrambling on his hands and knees in order to ascend. Every second had him bracing for the cry of alarm or for arrows to pour down on his unprotected body. But the castle appeared silent.

Panting, his hair sticking to his forehead, Merlin gulped down air when he finally reached the doors. He kept the stonework pressed to his back, trying to conceal himself the best he could from anyone looking out. Pressing his ear to the wood, he attempted to discern any sounds. But the doors were thick and Merlin knew he would be lucky to hear anything even if there was a feast happening just beyond them.

The time for subtlety was over. Merlin pushed the hair from his eyes and shoved the door. It was locked.

" _Aliese,"_ Merlin breathed, twisting his hand as he did so. The lock clicked and he pushed the door gently. The castle was in ruins yet Merlin still flinched when the door creaked its protest and signalled to the entire area that someone was opening the door. He should have expected it.

He slipped in as soon as the gap was wide enough, using magic to shut the doors behind them. They closed with an echoing _boom_ and Merlin froze. Someone would have heard that; soldiers would be on their way right now…

But there was no sound or movement. Merlin tentatively let out his breath and looked around. The only movement was the dust settling from the doors opening. Not trusting his senses, Merlin whispered a spell and sent his magic to search the castle. But as far as he could tell, he was the only one here.

Someone _had_ been here though. Tracks led through the dust and dirt and Merlin knew there had been at least a dozen men pacing these hallways in recent days. His guess had been right; Arthur had been brought here.

Hurrying from the entrance, Merlin started methodically searching the castle. Morgana could be shielding their presence with her own magic – Merlin knew he couldn't leave anything to fate. He had to see for himself whether Arthur was here or not. Each deserted corridor made his fear grow, however. All was still and quiet. Then Merlin rounded another corner.

His cry of alarm slipped from him before he could stifle it. But the men in front of him were dead. Merlin hurried forward and crouched next to a body. He could see wounds on the man's torso – he had clearly been in a fight. But the wounds weren't enough to have killed him. The blank and vacant expression told Merlin all he needed to know – Morgana had killed these men with magic.

But the wounds… With magic at her disposal, she wouldn't have needed to physically fight them.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered. He knew his prince had escaped and battled these men. Had Morgana killed them for allowing him to escape? Was Arthur, even now, roaming the forest, heading for Camelot?

Deep down, Merlin knew that wasn't the case. His instincts told him that Arthur was still in danger.

Hurrying past the bodies, Merlin completed his search, even looking in every cell in the dungeon. Arthur was no longer here. Morgana must have killed the men and then transported Arthur somewhere else.

But where?

Figuring out that she was bringing Arthur to the castle had given Merlin a purpose. He could plan a rescue and keep his mind off from what might be happening to Arthur. But now… Now Merlin had no idea where he was supposed to search. Where would Morgana have taken Arthur? It could be anywhere and Merlin didn't even know what direction he should turn when he left the castle.

Knowing the knights would be on their way meant he had no time to lose. There was one other being who may be able to track down the missing prince and Merlin knew he had to move quickly. After all, he had no idea how he was supposed to explain why he was talking to a dragon if the knights reached him sooner than he anticipated.

MMM

It was dark when Arthur opened his eyes.

He groaned, realising he was starting to make a habit of this. He lay still, listening hard before moving. The darkness was absolute – he couldn't see anything. But neither could he hear anything and the absence of sound was unnerving. Gingerly, he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, mentally checking where hurt and whether he was injured. His head was the worst – pounding waves crashed against his skull as his body protested being transported without its say-so for the second time.

But after deciding he was still in one piece, Arthur carefully got to his feet. He blinked rapidly, trying to force his vision to focus in the darkness. After a while, he could make out shapes in the darkness and moved towards the first one, his hand stretched in front of him. He brushed against something slimy and Arthur recoiled before reaching forward again.

He grasped the object and gave a tug. A loud _squelch_ sounded and Arthur winced, grimacing in disgust at the object in his hand. He couldn't make out what it was though, other than it appeared to be some sort of plant. It wasn't a type that he knew, however, and he tossed it to one side. It was a pointless move though as Arthur could tell that the room – or wherever he was – was full of the objects.

He kept his hands outstretched, brushing aside the plants as he explored his new cell. It was a circular room only about ten paces wide. Ignoring the slime on the wall, Arthur trailed one hand along it, feeling for a door or a latch. But only smooth stone met his fingers and the prince swore. He could escape a chain and a locked door but if Morgana had used magic to seal him in, he knew he was in trouble.

"Face me!" he yelled into the darkness. "Come and face me!"

Silence met his call. It didn't surprise him. Morgana had grown used to hiding behind her powers – she wouldn't face him until she knew she could defeat him. Arthur took courage from that thought. It meant he still had time to escape – still had time to find a way out before his sister came to finish him off.

He didn't want to admit it, but he also knew it meant his knights had time to find him. But as Arthur stared into the darkness, he wondered if they would be able to. Morgana could have taken him anywhere. He could be days, weeks even, away from Camelot and his men wouldn't know which way to go.

Sighing, Arthur found the wall and leant against it before sitting down. He told himself he was conserving his strength, figuring out a plan. But he knew the truth. He had no idea where he was, how he was going to get out or what he would do if he came face to face with Morgana again.

 _Weak._

Arthur started, staring into the darkness. He had heard a voice. But there was no movement, no hint that anyone else was here. Arthur knew he had searched the entire room; he would know if someone else was here. When all remained silent, Arthur shook his head and tried to put it from his mind. He was locked in a dark room with no idea where he was – it made sense that his mind was playing tricks on him.

 _Pathetic. Vulnerable._

Arthur sprung to his feet.

"Show yourself!"

A cold mocking laugh rang through the small room. Arthur's hand instinctively went to his belt and he growled when it closed over thing air. His sword was back in Camelot, with his armour, his knights and any chance he had of defeating Morgana. He may not be armed, but the voice was wrong. He wasn't vulnerable.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur calmed his thudding heart and circled the room again. He counted his steps, focusing on what he could identify rather than the unknown. But once he was convinced that he had paced out the entire space, he knew for sure that he was alone.

"Whatever your trick, Morgana," he called loudly, "it won't work. Just come and face me yourself."

There was no reply. Arthur wasn't even sure where the door was to plan a surprise attack even if he wanted to. But when only the sound of his blood rushing through his veins echoed in his head, he sat back down again. If there was no one here – and Arthur was certain that there wasn't – it meant that Morgana was using mind-games. He would not be her victim.

Wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing his knees to his chest, Arthur fixed his gaze to a point in the darkened room. He didn't know what he was looking at, but as long as his vision didn't waver, nothing would distract him. Talking softly, too quietly for anyone to hear, he began to recite movements in a duel, focusing his mind on remembering all the steps in order to block whatever magic Morgana was casting his way. She had to sleep at some point and then would be his chance.

But Arthur slipped into sleep himself without sensing any change in the room he was in. His words faded to nothing as his breathing evened out and he slept for a short while, his body weary from both the fight and the magic that had transported him here.

He didn't sleep for long though.

Arthur jolted awake, his breathing coming in a sharp gasp. He didn't know what had awoken him, but with alertness came the feeling of being watched. He tried to look around without moving, but the darkness hadn't lifted and he still couldn't see properly.

"I know you are there," he called, a commanding note entering his voice. "Show yourself. I mean you no harm."

"You always were too soft-hearted," a voice said. A familiar voice. Arthur stared into the darkness, his heart beating hard.

"Father?"

Someone walked towards him. Arthur blinked, then realised he wasn't dreaming. It was his father standing in front of him, illuminated by a soft glow whose source Arthur could not locate. He pushed himself upright, staring. He stretched out a hand, but Uther remained out of reach.

"Father?"

"You've got yourself in trouble again, Arthur. Always causing trouble, for me and for the kingdom. Always needing someone to rescue you."

"That's not true," Arthur said, "and you know it. Why do you say these things? How are you here? Did Morgana take you as well?"

"It would be easy for her to do so; your so-called guards haven't been trained properly. But no. I am here on my own accord."

Arthur shook his head. He tried to ignore the jilt about the guard. He had hand-picked men to guard his father in his weakened state – he knew they wouldn't let anything happen to the king. But as his thoughts tumbled over each other, Arthur frowned. His father was weak, a shell of a man after Morgana's attack. But the king standing in front of him was powerful; a man in his prime.

"I don't understand."

"That doesn't surprise me. You were not blessed with brains, Arthur." Uther looked at him and Arthur tried not to flinch. It was the same look of disappointment that he was used to. "You're weak, Arthur You will not be a good king. I disown you. I am here to ensure that Morgana takes her rightful place on the throne of Camelot."

"No," Arthur said. He backed up, shaking his head, until he could touch the wall. "You would never do that."

He looked long and hard at his father. The man sneered at him and Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the king was nowhere to be seen and Arthur was alone once more.

"Just a trick," he muttered to himself, sitting back down. "It wasn't real."

But sleep didn't claim him this time. He knew it was a trick of some sort. His father was weakened and in Camelot and would never give in to Morgana. Not after everything she had done.

The words nestled under his skin like thorns though, tugging and tearing at him every time he moved. Only his father knew Arthur's fears – that he would fail the king, that he would fail his people. The apparition – or whatever it was – had known exactly what to say to undermine his confidence. That, more than anything that had happened so far, scared Arthur.

His father had always made him feel like a weak little boy. If he was to survive this, he needed to be a prince, a warrior. He had to keep fighting.

"Not real," he said, holding onto that thought and going back to reciting the knights' steps to banish the hurtful words.

Above him, surrounding him in the darkness, the mandrakes continued their work.


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry this took me so long, real life is getting in the way!_

* * *

Morgana scowled, her hand resting on the door handle. She could hear Arthur muttering from within, but it wasn't the ravings of a mad-man. She knew he was convincing himself that Uther wasn't real. She wanted to go in, to see his face, but knew it would break the illusion.

Secretly, she was impressed. She had still believed Arthur to be the little boy desperate for his father's approval, living only for the king to smile at him the way he looked at his ward. Morgana scoffed. It was ironic, really. She knew Uther had loved her best – he was allowed to love her because the fate of his kingdom didn't rest on her shoulders the way it had for Arthur. Uther couldn't show affection to Arthur; he could only train him.

But if the king had found out the truth about her while Morgana herself was still struggling to understand her powers, she knew that no more amount of fondness would have saved her from the pyre. The king was an animal.

Arthur was different though. He had a heart. He cared and loved for his people and when he listened to his own heart rather than his father, he wasn't afraid to show it. He had clearly grown during her absence, taking on a leadership role rather than following blindly in his father's footsteps.

She calmed herself with a deep breath. Arthur had never made things easy, and cracking after the first apparition would have made things too simple. She had to find a way to get through his defences; barriers that had shifted while she was gone. His weaknesses were no longer clear to her.

She left the door, sweeping down the stone staircase and leaving Arthur to his mutterings. Her own room was hardly the luxury she had been granted back in Camelot, but Morgana was used to living like a lowly peasant. It had been different when Morgause was alive. Her sister had kings in her pocket and could put thoughts into their heads. They had wanted for nothing.

Although Morgana knew she had her beauty and her own power, she lacked something. She had led a sheltered life and as hard as she tried to deny it, even to herself, there were still things that scared her. An army of brutes, for one thing, sent shivers down her spine, despite knowing she could control them with a mere thought.

They had been necessary, though. The transformation spell had exhausted her, far more than she had anticipated. She had needed time to recover and did not relish in the idea of Arthur escaping while she was weak and resting. But they had played their role and part of her was satisfied they were no match for her brother.

After all, she had uses for him. She would have killed him back in Camelot, had initially intended to. But she couldn't do it. Arthur had always been good to her, even when he had been an annoying little boy whining about being a knight. He had been her brother, even before they knew of their blood relation. She had fought against the realisation for so long, told herself that Morgause's venomous words were all that mattered.

But Arthur was not his father.

She hadn't been able to kill him.

Staring around her sparsely furnished room, Morgana screamed. A burst of power shot from her and a goblet was hurled across the room. She hated her own weakness. Arthur was in her way; killing him would have solved so many problems.

Clasping her shaking hands, she forced herself to be calm. Her plan was much better. She would break the prince, warp his mind until he accepted comfort from her. She would control him – Arthur had always been a better follower than leader. Then she would take Camelot and no one would raise a finger, not suspecting their beloved prince.

Running it over in her mind calmed her. She had made it this far and nothing had gone wrong. The only flaw was that she knew she hadn't killed Merlin, and while the servant lived, he would be looking for his master. But he wouldn't know where to start searching and Morgana was convinced that he would never be able to find them.

She banished thoughts of Merlin, knowing thinking about him wouldn't help her control the anger. Instead, she sat on a chair, hands neatly folded in her lap as she regained her composure. Arthur was the issue here. If his father wasn't his weakness, then what was?

She thought of Gwen, but knew that if Arthur hadn't believed what his father had said, he would accept nothing cruel from the mouth of the one who loved him. It had to be someone close to the prince, someone he listened to.

She gasped as the answer came to her. Arthur had always come to her after meetings with his father. He would deny that he sought her council, but after he had ranted and moaned, he would listen to what she had to say.

Morgana's lip curled in satisfaction and she glanced up, as if her magic allowed her to see into the room with the mandrakes. How she longed to see his face as his spirit crumbled. It would be worth all of this effort.

But that power was, as of yet, denied to her. Instead, Morgana let her eyes fall shut and reached into her magic. She had ensorcelled these mandrakes herself, she could influence their magic. Words fell silently from her lips as she worked her spell and she slumped, un-lady-like and exhausted when she was done.

The mandrakes would do her will though, showing Arthur what she desired for him to see. She moved to her small cot and lay down, satisfied. By the morning, Arthur would be grovelling at her feet and her plans to take over Camelot could begin in earnest.

Morgana slept deeply, while above her, her brother shook in fear.

MMM

"The path of destiny is not always clear, young warlock."

Merlin scowled, resisting folding his arms. He refused to be patronised by a creature that he could control, a creature that would still be imprisoned under Camelot if it wasn't for him. It didn't help that Kilgarrah could probably eat him quicker than Merlin could give him the command not to.

"Can you help me or not?"

He didn't care that he sounded bad-tempered. He had ridden hard, driving the horse almost to exhaustion again. He didn't feel tired; he couldn't afford to give into his body's demands when he had a prince to find. Merlin had wanted to put some distance between himself and the castle, knowing that was where the knights would search for him. But the forest had been dense and it had taken most of the day until he found a clearing that would allow the dragon to land.

He hadn't had to wait long after he had roared his summons to the sky. But as of yet, Kilgarrah had been less than helpful and Merlin had had enough of cryptic remarks.

"It is not the _life_ of the future king that is at risk," the dragon rumbled, "it is his soul."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Merlin demanded. His memory flashed back to when Arthur's soul had nearly been sacrificed. Would Morgana trade Arthur for something that granted her more power? Merlin nearly scoffed – of course she would. The woman he had known in Camelot was gone now, and he knew he was the one to blame.

"The witch seeks to control him."

"There's no chance of that," Merlin said. "Arthur's too stubborn."

"Can he resist the cry of a mandrake?"

Merlin baulked. He had seen what the root had done to the king. Much as he hated Uther for the persecution of magic, he knew the man was strong. No one could create a purge on all magic-users and not have a strong spirit. Yet the mandrake had crushed him, made him a wreck of a man within a few days.

Merlin knew that Arthur was strong. But he was also vulnerable. As much as he tried to persuade the prince otherwise, the fact that he cared so deeply would be used against him. Arthur cared what others thought of him and Merlin didn't want to consider what the mandrakes would do with that vulnerability.

"What do I need to do?" He asked, his previous annoyance vanishing as his heart thudded in renewed fear for the prince. It was one thing racing to save Arthur's life. It was another entirely racing to save his soul. From his time with Gaius, Merlin knew that some wounds could not be healed.

"You must seek the place where madness reigns supreme."

"Tell me straight," Merlin said. "I don't have time for games. Neither does Arthur."

"You should-,"

"If you want Avalon to ever exist, tell me where he is."

The dragon reared up in anger and for a wild moment, Merlin wondered if Kilgarrah was just going to squash him. In any other situation, he would have laughed. He was the most powerful warlock to walk the earth, and he was going to be squashed like an ant under a boot.

But then Kilgarrah's forelegs hit the ground again.

"I have foreseen events bringing about Avalon's existence before you were born, _boy._ "

"And as you like to remind me, Arthur and I are the only ones who can bring it into being. So please, just tell me where he is."

"You must ride east for three days," Kilgarrah said. Merlin inwardly sighed, grateful to be getting a straight answer. "When the sun burns the desert red, a black spire will rise. It is there you must go. It is there you will find your prince."

"Thank you," Merlin said earnestly. He was already turning towards his horse when Kilgarrah called him back. The dragon's voice was graver than usual.

"I do not need to remind you of the consequences should you fail?"

"No." Merlin ran a hand through his hair. "I'll call again if I need you."

Kilgarrah rose, his wings unfurling. The sight never failed to take Merlin's breath away and he felt bolstered by knowing that this powerful creature was on his side, even if it was in Kilgarrah's own way.

"One more thing, young warlock. The Knights of Camelot seek you even as we speak. Their blades cannot aid you."

"I know," Merlin said. He wished his friends were here, even if it was to stop his own hope from dying. But he had to do this alone. "Can you slow them?"

If they accompanied him, there was every chance Morgana would kill them. She would let nothing stand in her way. Merlin knew he was stronger than her, but he couldn't protect everyone at once and he refused to have another friend's death on his conscience.

Kilgarrah dipped his head in acknowledgement and took off. Merlin watched him until the darkening sky swallowed his form and the first stars took his place.

He moved to his horse, then relented. He would kill the creature if he rode tonight. Instead, he tethered the horse to another branch, giving him easy access to good grazing and a small river. Then he pulled the blankets from his back and drank his own fill before rolling himself in his blankets.

He didn't think he was tired, but sleep quickly stole upon him. But his dreams were troubled, filled with visions of Arthur screaming in madness. He jerked awake early, the sun just gracing the horizon.

Merlin wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and stood, watching the sunrise. He felt ill, drained, as if it was his soul on the line as well as Arthur's.

When the trees were bathed in golden light, he snapped into action, saddling the horse once again. This time, there would be no stopping until he found his destiny.

MMM

Arthur's eyes opened painfully. They were gritty and painful. He could feel grime covering every inch of him, first from the dungeons, now from this room. What he wouldn't give for a hot bath and a decent meal. As if reacting to his thoughts, his stomach rumbled loudly and Arthur pressed a hand against it. He wouldn't give Morgana the satisfaction.

He had dozed on and off, but had no idea if it was day or night. The darkness in the room hadn't changed since he had first arrived and Arthur realised there were no windows. It was disorientating and he hated how weak it made him feel, not being able to see properly. Although his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could still only make out faint shadows on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. There was nothing to see.

When the shadows first started to grow lighter, Arthur didn't initially realise what it meant. Then he sighed, waiting for the apparition of his father to appear.

"It won't work, Morgana," Arthur called. His voice was hoarse from lack of fluid. "I know it's a spell."

"It's no spell."

It was Morgana herself, walking towards him with a familiar smirk on her face.

"Just your own mind, telling you what you believe to be true."

"I won't fall for it," Arthur said, sitting up straighter. Then he put a hand on the wall and lurched unsteadily to his feet. He was going to face her with his head held high, regardless of what she threw at him.

"There is nothing to fall for, brother. You heard those things because you believe them to be true."

"I-,"

"Don't deny it, Arthur. We both know you have never felt good enough for your father. You've told me yourself, often enough."

Arthur flinched. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't be reminded that this was the woman that he had confided in. Before Merlin had arrived in Camelot, Morgana was the only one who understood Arthur's insecurities.

"But you've always been wrong," Morgana continued. Startled, Arthur looked back at her. "You've always been a better man that he was. You love and care for your people, Arthur. You will make a good king."

"You tried to take my kingdom."

"I know," Morgana laughed. "That throne belongs to me. But maybe I don't share your compassion for the people anymore."

"They will never accept you. I will never let you rule them."

"How about we rule them together?"

Arthur froze, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "What?"

"Your compassion will guide them through peace. My powers will ensure that we never have war. All I'm asking for is to be by your side, Arthur. You can marry Gwen, live a peaceful life in the kingdom you love, and when things get challenging, I will be there to make the hard decisions."

Arthur stared at him, shock written plain on his face. Since Morgana had shown her true colours, she had always been trying to kill him, to ensure that there was no one left to challenge her right to the throne. Now she was suggesting they share it, ruling together?

As much as he didn't want to admit it, making the difficult decisions had always concerned him. He hated ordering men into battle, knowing it might be their last. Being responsible for making children into orphans, wives into windows.

"Come, Arthur." Morgana was closer now, her expression soft and concerned, much like the girl he used to know. "I'll protect you; I'll protect your kingdom _and_ your heart. That can't be so bad, can it? Just join me."

Fatigue and fear weighed down on Arthur. He could end this by just saying yes. He could have Morgana back and a strong kingdom without having to fear the threat of magic. Her powers could protect them, if she harnessed them for good. He had never believed that she was truly evil.

He closed his eyes and looked up at her. It was everything he wanted but it was too easy. If there was one thing he knew about Morgana, it was her pride and stubbornness. She would never be content sharing the throne.

It was just another trick.

"Be gone," he said, sitting back down and wrapping his arms around his knees, drawing them to his chest. "You'll have to try harder than that."

The soft blue light vanished immediately and when Arthur looked up, he was once again alone.

But he was shaken. It had been easy to tell himself that hadn't been his father; Arthur had built defences against the man's words for years and lately, no longer felt the need to prove himself. The hatred from the apparition had meant nothing to him.

This time, however, Arthur knew he had been close to giving in. He had cared for Morgana, loved her like a sister, and the illusion of her had just offered him everything that he had ever hoped for. But Arthur was not fooled; he knew she had hardened her heart against him. She was no longer the girl he had grown up with and he vowed that he would not let her words fool him again.

Resting his head on his knees, he tried to think of Camelot, of the sunny meadows and Guinevere smiling at him, flowers in her hair while Merlin complained about something inconsequential in the background.

That was the Camelot he wanted and he knew that no one could hand it to him, no matter how sweet their words were.

It was easier than admitting that he was afraid. He had been close to giving in this time, and he dreaded to think what apparition would appear to him next. He feared what it would offer him, and whether he would be able to resist.

Shutting his eyes, Arthur blocked out the darkness and instead turned his thoughts to bright sunshine and those he loved. He would survive this, no matter what.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for the massive delay - real life well and truly got in the way!_

 _I hope you continue to enjoy the story._

* * *

Arthur jolted awake. He didn't know what had disturbed him. Blinking, he stared into the darkness, trying to make something out, but only impenetrable blackness met his searching gaze.

Knowing he couldn't rely on his eyes, Arthur listened intently instead. After a few moments, he heard something: a scratching sound, as if stone was being shifted. It paused, then the sound came again. With a pounding heart, Arthur climbed to his feet, leaving one hand on the slimy wall as he peered towards where he thought the sound was coming from.

He wasn't looking for long when a small beam of light made its way into the room, lifting the shadows. The gap grew wider and, involuntarily, Arthur stumbled back. He could still feel the fight with Morgana's men and knew that, without a weapon, he was vulnerable. But he continued to stare towards the hole, hoping that it would be a friendly face rather than Morgana.

When someone did appear, Arthur stared in astonishment, his knees going weak. He held himself up, using his hand on the wall to ground himself in reality.

"Merlin?" His voice was hoarse but Arthur didn't have any sort of retort to hand about the air being dusty. He didn't care.

There was no denying it was Merlin grinning at him from the other side of the room, forcing himself through the small gap he had created. Arthur didn't think about how improbable it was for his manservant to be here – he didn't even know where _here_ was; Morgana hadn't left any tracks for anyone to trace – and he didn't stop to think if it was a trick or not.

Elation swelled within him and he struggled to keep his expression neutral. But Merlin was alive.

 _He was alive!_

Arthur hadn't noticed how heavily it had been resting on him, not knowing whether his friend had survived Morgana's attack or not. Seeing him there, grinning like the idiot he was, made Arthur sag in relief.

"You didn't think I'd just leave you here, did you?" Merlin said, coming further into the room. "And miss the chance to save your royal backside again?"

"Very funny," Arthur muttered. Seeing Merlin alive caused a whirl of emotions to shoot through him and now, more than ever, Arthur wanted to sink into his bed and sleep uninterrupted. He didn't know why, but he knew that now Merlin was here, he would make it back to Camelot after all.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked, walking closer. He stopped directly in front of Arthur, peering at him with his usual look; the one that made Arthur feel like his servant could see into his soul. "We're going to have to wait here for a bit. The others will give the signal when it is clear."

"The others?"

"The knights, of course." Merlin settled next to the wall, sliding down it until he was sitting, grinning up at Arthur. "You don't think they would have remained behind and let me gallop off on my own, do you?"

"I guess not." Arthur sat next to him. Merlin looked around the room and grimaced.

"This doesn't look comfortable. Mandrakes aren't the best of companions."

Arthur felt a wash of relief rush over him. It made sense if the hallucinations were the mandrakes having an effect on him. It was also nice to know that once he was away from this place, he would feel better. He had been worrying that Morgana had cast a spell on him; one where the effects wouldn't fade even after he fled.

"You'll be out of here in no time," Merlin continued. Arthur didn't realise how much he relied on Merlin's casual confidence until now. For the first time in however long, he didn't feel on edge. "The others are just scouting for a safe place."

"A safe place?" Arthur frowned. "Why aren't we riding straight for Camelot? My father is vulnerable. The kingdom needs me."

"Arthur-," Merlin trailed off, and when Arthur looked at him, he was biting his lip nervously. "You can't go back there."

"What?"

"She's got inside your head with these mandrakes," Merlin explained. "I can't even imagine what sort of things you have been seeing. But she has made you vulnerable to attacks from others, made you doubt yourself. Camelot doesn't need an insecure prince."

"I'm not-,"

"I know you're not," Merlin said earnestly. "But we need to give the kingdom time to accept that. We're finding a safe place for you to stay for a while. Just until you recover. I know you – you wouldn't want to put the kingdom in peril by returning too soon, would you?"

Arthur shook his head. He supposed it made sense; he had seen what paranoia had done to his father. He thought he had kept his wits about him the entire time he had been here, but then again, he had been alone; no one had been here to tell him he was losing it. He knew Merlin; knew the man wouldn't lie to him. Merlin never had done; he wasn't afraid to tell Arthur the truth and that was why Arthur valued his friendship so much.

He supposed he just had to trust Merlin again now, the way he had always done.

"Where are they looking for a hideout?"

"I don't know," Merlin laughed. "I barely even know where we are, you know what my sense of direction is like!"

Arthur nodded.

But something began to niggle at him.

Merlin would have located the safe place himself – he wouldn't have trusted Arthur's safety to their friends, although what he could do that a trained Knight of Camelot couldn't was beyond the prince.

"How long have I been here?" Arthur aimed for a casual tone, but his heart was pounding hard again. His thoughts tumbled over one another. He didn't want to be right about this, but he couldn't doubt what past experience had taught him.

"Too long," Merlin muttered bitterly.

"How long?" Arthur repeated, a hint of a command infiltrating his tone.

"Does it matter how many days you have been missing?" Merlin cried. "All that matters is that I found you."

"It matters." Arthur slowly stood. He knew Merlin could be vague when it suited him. But Arthur replayed their conversation over in his mind: Merlin hadn't said anything specific at all.

Instead, he had told him his deepest fear: that this whole ordeal rendered him unfit to lead his people.

"Arthur?" Merlin also stood, looking at him in concern. But when Arthur stared at him, he was certain he could see the tell-tale blue shimmer around Merlin's form. It wasn't light coming from the hole in the wall – a hole that Arthur was now convinced only existed in his head.

"Get out," Arthur muttered, his throat constricting, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Arthur, I'm here to help-," Merlin stretched out a hand towards him. But he didn't come close to touching the prince and Arthur knew for certain that his fears were correct.

"Out!" His cry reverberated around the entire room. Merlin looked as if he was going to protest, but all that escaped him was a shrill laugh. It was cold and threatening, sending shivers down Arthur's spine. Arthur tried to speak, but the words lodged in his throat as the menacing laugh rang in his ears.

Merlin was still laughing even as he dissolved into nothing but dust and Arthur was left alone in the darkness again.

Sinking to his knees, Arthur couldn't stop a harsh sob escaping him. He bent over, pressing his forehead to his knees and making himself as small as possible. He had to get out of here before he ended up like his father.

Merlin was the one person who had always told him the truth, always been there for him even when Arthur tried to push him away. Merlin was the one who had always believed in him, encouraged him to fight for what was right.

Seeing him here was worse than either his father or Morgana. He trusted Merlin and so he had trusted what this spectre had said. Would he ever be able to get those words out of his head? Would he ever trust that he was fit to rule after hearing the opposite coming from Merlin's mouth?

"Damn you, Morgana," Arthur whispered to his knees. He sucked in a few deep breaths, attempting to control himself. She would no doubt be watching, waiting to see what impact Merlin had had on him.

He couldn't let her witness that her plan was working. Arthur carefully wiped his eyes, using his hunched position to shield his actions before he sat up and leant back against the wall. This time, he wouldn't fall asleep. He was going to think of a way out of here. He had to, even if it was just to prove to himself that he wasn't weak.

But he knew he need to get out of here before he lost his mind for good.

MMM

Dust and grit tore at his clothing, getting into his eyes and mouth and making every step more challenging than the last. But Merlin pressed off, putting one foot in front of the other.

He had left his horse at the edge of the forest. As soon as he had seen the extent of the desert in front of him, he knew he couldn't persuade the beast to plod across it. As it was, he didn't have enough water for himself, let alone a horse as well. His throat was hoarse and his head pounded with each step, his body screaming for rest.

But Arthur had been missing for too long. Four days and five nights, and Merlin had felt every minute. Looking up, he squinted into the sun and sighed. This had to be the right place; the red desert stretched as far as the eye could see. That was his problem. There were no landmarks, nothing to give him any indication that he was heading in the right direction. The sun reflected off the land, meaning Merlin wasn't entirely sure where it was in the sky anymore – his stinging eyes wouldn't let him focus.

Lowering his head again, he marched on. By his reckoning, another hour passed before he looked up again. But this time, there _was_ something to see. Merlin blinked, rubbing the sand out of his eyes and peering forward again. At first, he was convinced that it was a mirage, the shimmering air playing tricks on his exhausted mind. But the image didn't disappear and Merlin gave a strangled shout.

It was the black spire the dragon had told him about. Only now, Merlin could see that it was a tower of sorts. Even from the distance he was at, he was convinced it was in adequate condition to house a witch and her prisoner.

Determination straightened his back. He could no longer feel his sore throat or pounding head. Magic raced through him, bolstering him with the knowledge that he had found Arthur. Not allowing himself to think about what waited for him when he reached the tower, Merlin sped up.

It was further away than he thought. Night was falling by the time he reached the tower and Merlin used the darkness to press against the base, concealing his presence. Letting a trickle of magic escape him, he searched the tower for life.

Two auras reached back to him. One was far weaker than the other. Merlin sighed, saddened by what Morgana's tricks had done to Arthur. If she had left him in a prison, he would still be defiant and strong. But leaving him to the mandrakes for this length of time… Merlin knew even the strongest person would crack.

But Arthur was still alive, meaning he wasn't lost to Merlin. All the warlock had to do was think of a way of getting past Morgana.

He was wary to use magic. If he didn't kill her, she would use that knowledge against him – and against Arthur. He also had no idea what Morgause had taught her. His power was restricted in the sense that he wouldn't use dark magic, but he knew she had no such hindrance.

He also didn't want to kill her. He couldn't. She had been his friend, and he had failed her. He knew, however, that she wouldn't feel the same restraint. He was going to have to defend himself.

Every moment he remained crouched in the shadows was another moment that Arthur was being preyed upon by the mandrakes. Merlin didn't have a choice but to confront her. He stood up, shaking himself to ensure his muscles weren't about to betray him.

Then he started circling the tower, attempting to find a way in. He went around twice before he finally saw the concealed door. It only took a gentle nudge from his magic before it swung open noiselessly. Merlin crept in, his hand up in front of him, prepared to use magic.

To start with, only silence greeted him. But Merlin knew he couldn't let his guard down; he knew both Pendragon siblings were in the tower. While his heart told him to go straight to Arthur, Merlin knew he had to deal with Morgana first. He wouldn't expose Arthur any further to her magic if given the choice.

There were few rooms in the base of the tower. After searching one, Merlin caught sight of the flickering candlelight coming from a second. He approached, but his foot nudged against a small table. Freezing, Merlin waited to see if he had been discovered, but neither woman or magic came out of the room. Then he peered towards what he had stumbled against and grinned, picking up Arthur's sword. It was heavy in his hands, but it would serve its purpose: to distract Morgana from his true weapon.

Pushing open the door, Merlin's breath caught. Morgana had her back to him, her head bent over something, her long hair covering her face. She could have been the girl he knew in Camelot.

"I wondered when you would come." Her voice was cold and Merlin closed his eyes, gathering his strength before lifting the sword in front of him.

"Let Arthur go," he said. Morgana turned to face him, her face twisted into a cruel smile. But Merlin didn't notice. He only saw her eyes – and they were sad.

"He doesn't belong to you."

"Or to you, Morgana. He belongs to Camelot, you know that."

"Camelot should be mine."

"But it is not. It is Arthur's. Let go of this hate."

"Such fine words for someone who betrays his friends."

Merlin sighed. He knew it would always come back to this. Hatred for Uther had driven Morgana to this, and every slight against her only fuelled her. Merlin regretted poisoning her – he regretted what it had enabled her to do. But he knew he would do the same again. If the choice was between betraying Morgana, or keeping Arthur and Camelot safe, his prince would come first every time.

"You betrayed us first. You have continued to betray us ever since."

"And if that is the case, how do you know I haven't already killed your precious prince?"

Merlin swallowed. He knew she hadn't – he had detected Arthur's life-force. But the sneer on her face and the hatred in her voice made him doubt his own magic, just for a split-second.

That time was all that Morgana required. Merlin didn't hear her say the spell until he was thrown from his feet. He skidded on his back out of the door again but managed to keep hold of the sword. As another spell sprung from Morgana, he rolled out of the way.

"He begged for death like a coward, Merlin!"

Morgana's taunts made Merlin angry, but he forced himself to remain calm.

"You haven't killed him, Morgana."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you don't want to."

Merlin hadn't even realised he had been thinking it until the words escaped him. He made it to his feet just in time to see Morgana pause. Doubt flickered across her face so fast that it was gone by the time Merlin blinked. But he knew what he had seen. He knew he was right.

"You would have killed him back in Camelot if that was the case. You wouldn't risk him escaping– you know as well as I do what Arthur is capable of, especially when he gets an idea in his head. He wouldn't stop until he escaped. You wouldn't have risked that if all you wanted was to kill him."

Morgana sneered again, but she didn't speak and Merlin knew he was on the right track. He glanced up at the stairs.

"You wanted to break him. You want him to be your puppet, because then you get everything you want. You'd get the throne, and you'd get those you love by your side again."

"You certainly wouldn't be one of them!" Morgana shouted another spell, but Merlin was ready for her this time.

He dodged to one side and whispered one himself. With an almighty crack, the doorway splintered, a barrage of rocks and stone thundering down until it completely blocked the door. Merlin waited with baited breath, but Morgana didn't emerge. He knew there was a chance that she had been killed, but all he could hope for now was that she was unconscious and he could free Arthur.

Morgana would think her own spell had rebounded if she survived the rockfall. Merlin's secret was safe.

Hoisting the sword into a more secure grip, Merlin turned his attention to the stairs and hurried up them, two at a time.

His secret might be safe, but right now, the same could not be said for his destiny. He tried to deny that he was more afraid of what he would find at the top of the tower compared to facing Morgana but his fear didn't matter.

All that mattered was Arthur.


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm so sorry for the delay - real life got firmly in the way and wouldn't relent. Then I finally got it edited and FF was down for me!_

 _I hope you're still with me and still enjoying. There's not much to go now._

* * *

Arthur heard the footsteps but he wasn't fooled. it was just another trick. He tried to calm his mind, focusing on the breathing exercises he had been taught as a young knight. Regardless of who appeared, he had to remain calm.

He had to see through the illusion.

He clenched his trembling hands. All he wanted was a friendly face. He wanted someone to tell him it was going to be alright. He didn't want to be strong, didn't want to pretend not to listen as they told him the flaws he had been painfully aware of his entire life or offered a compromise that he had never admitted to wanting, even to himself.

He paid attention to his breathing, focusing on that and that alone. He _had_ to remain strong though; Camelot needed him.

The door crashed open and, despite himself, Arthur flinched. It was the loudest noise he had heard for days. It helped clear his thoughts though, allowing him to grasp onto something real through the haze of his thoughts.

He turned, controlled and slow, to see who he was faced with this time.

He wasn't expecting Merlin.

Not again.

But Morgana – damn her – knew what his servant meant to him. She knew that Arthur listened to Merlin above anyone else. He was still reeling from the last Merlin he had faced – Morgana was clearly aware that Arthur wasn't certain he could resist a second.

The hallucination stared at him from across the room. There was a sword dangling from his hand, one Arthur recognised as his own. He wasn't fooled though. It would be the same as before – Morgana knew what the sword looked like. She had added in a small detail to try and fool him. The illusion wouldn't be able to offer him any specifics, just like before.

Arthur had no intention of letting the figure speak. He wasn't going to be persuaded by lies, wasn't going to be bewitched by whatever reasoning came from Merlin's mouth using Morgana's words.

He crossed the room in three quick steps, anger coursing through him.

"Arthur," the figure said. Arthur paused. There was breathless relief in the illusion's voice. Tears were swimming in his eyes and a relieved smile crossed its face. It wasn't Merlin's usual grin when he was trying to goad Arthur, but one of sheer relief. There was such emotion in his expression that Arthur faltered.

He looked again at the figure. It looked drawn and weary, covered from head to toe in dust. Its lips were chapped and exhaustion shadowed its eyes.

Morgana clearly realised that he wasn't falling for her tricks. Arthur knew this was how Merlin would look if it really was his servant: Merlin wouldn't have rested while Arthur was missing. It was a good ploy on Morgana's part, but Arthur wasn't naïve to her tricks any longer.

As he stared, the hallucination opened its mouth to speak again. Arthur moved swiftly.

Before a word could escape the figure, Arthur closed the gap between them, grabbing him by the throat. He slammed him up against the wall, constricting his fist. Part of him was surprised that he was able to grip something that was only in his mind, but he released the frustration and anger he felt over his situation and squeezed.

A clatter broke through choked gasps as the sword fell from the illusion's hand. Both of the figure's hands were clawing at Arthur's, trying to get him to release his grip.

"Ar'r," a strangled word formed, "it's me…"

"Enough of your lies," Arthur snarled. "Tell your mistress I won't have it."

Arthur glanced around the empty room. "You hear that, Morgana? You won't break me!"

"Ar-thur. Stop."

Arthur couldn't help it. He knew he shouldn't listen. But this hallucination was _so_ much like Merlin; even the look in his eyes as he fought for breath. Could an illusion show that much depth?

His grip loosened. Merlin – if it was him – quickly pulled free, leaning against the wall and rubbing his throat, gasping for breath. But when he looked at the prince, there was no accusation in his eyes, only empathy.

"It's me, Arthur. Really me."

"I-,"

"Remember after Morgana's attack? When we were sitting on the steps outside the castle, waiting for the knights? Remember what I told you? Other than suggesting you polish your own boots. That you would have to take charge: that you might have to be king."

Arthur staggered away. They had been alone when Merlin delivered those words – he would have never have said them otherwise. But the visions before hadn't been able to offer specifics; they had only acted the way Morgana directed.

She couldn't know what Merlin had said to him that day, unless…

"It's me." Merlin said simply.

Arthur believed him.

He backed away until he hit the wall and stared at Merlin.

"How-?" he muttered. He had no idea where Morgana had taken him, yet his servant had managed to find them. Merlin looked exhausted and Arthur knew he hadn't rested.

But the last time Arthur had seen Merlin, he had been sprawled on the floor, unconscious, after Morgana had attacked.

"You're alive then," he said bluntly, hoping his casual tone would hide how hard his heart was pounding. Merlin offered a small smile and a nod. His lack of comment meant Arthur was now convinced this was the real Merlin – _his_ Merlin. Despite their teasing, they both knew there was a time and a place where flippant comments were not the way forward.

It just made Arthur wonder how bad he looked if Merlin understood that one word spoken in the wrong tone would make Arthur fall apart. He needed to know this was real, needed to be certain that it wasn't all an elaborate trick.

"Come on, Sire," Merlin said softly, "we need to get you out of here."

"Where?" Arthur had to ask. It was what the other Merlin had said, after all. But this Merlin looked astonished.

"Home, of course."

Arthur smiled weakly at the thought. Somehow, he knew that Morgana wouldn't stop them. He assumed his sister had left the tower, gone on an errand or to fetch supplies. There was no other way that Merlin could be standing here unharmed otherwise.

He really could go home.

"Here," Merlin said. He bent down and picked up Arthur's sword, holding it out hilt first towards his master. Arthur gripped it, then was forced to support his own wrist as his hand shook. Merlin didn't comment.

Arthur looked around his cell properly. Merlin had left the door open and there was just enough light to see that the room was covered in some dark, slimy plants dripping a strange substance everywhere. Arthur shuddered, realising he had been blundering around amongst them for however long.

As he stared at them, he realised they – not Morgana – were responsible for his visions. No doubt Morgana had been directing them, but it was reassuring to know that her illusions were limited. Anger surged and Arthur swung wildly with his sword. There were so many plants that he didn't need to stretch far in order to send them falling to the floor.

He lashed out until he was panting, his limbs shaking from the exertion. His head was pounding and Arthur knew that physically reacting wasn't the best idea considering he couldn't remember when he had last eaten or drunk. Out of the corner of his eye, he was convinced he saw Merlin flinch, but when he looked at his servant, Merlin was simply watching him.

"Let's go home," Merlin said. Arthur nodded, taking a step forward. His knees buckled as he did so but Merlin somehow closed the distance between them and stopped him from hitting the floor. Arthur didn't think Merlin had the strength to hold him, but his servant surprised him and didn't let him fall.

"I-," Arthur didn't know what he was trying to say. There was a loud ringing in his ears. He knew, deep down, that it was over, although he didn't know why he wasn't terrified that Morgana would come after them with her magic. But he knew his safe and his body was reminding him of the ordeal he had been through the last few days.

"We need to-,"

"It's alright, Sire," Merlin whispered. "Everything is going to be fine."

Arthur nodded weakly and the action sent him over the edge. The last thing he saw was Merlin's concerned face before his eyes slid shut and his body slumped.

He was safe. It was over.

And he hadn't lost his mind.

MMM

Merlin stared down at Arthur's prone form, having lowered him completely to the ground as soon as Arthur had passed out. His heart was still thudding at using magic in front of the prince, but Arthur didn't appear to have noticed how Merlin had crossed the room so quickly. Merlin had seen how pale his master had gone and knew that Arthur had reached the end of his endurance. But he refused to let the prince hit the floor.

Merlin cast a filthy look at the room. The dragon had told him that Arthur was being exposed to the mandrakes. He had only found one under Uther's bed and it had been enough to make the king lose his mind. Arthur had been trapped in an entire room full of them and Merlin knew he had been here for at least two days.

He sighed as he rubbed his throat. Arthur's reaction hadn't surprised him, but it did make him wonder what the prince had been seeing during those few days. Merlin would never ask though. Arthur would tell him if he was ready but Merlin wouldn't dream about prying. Morgana had tried to break him – Merlin would never ask what illusions she had given Arthur to bring about that end.

"Come on," he repeated his earlier words quietly, hooking his hands under Arthur's shoulders. "Let's go home."

He was forced to use magic again to be able to move Arthur. Even if the prince hadn't eaten for the length of his captivity (which Merlin was certain about – he helped Arthur dress enough to know when the man had gone for days without food) Merlin didn't have the strength to carry him without aid. Arthur was not the only one to be running on adrenaline.

There was no movement from beyond the rock-fall. Merlin hoisted Arthur past it and out into the burning heat of the desert. It did nothing to rouse Arthur. Merlin positioned him in the shade and stared across the hazy red stretch of land. He couldn't cross it without water. He also couldn't call the dragon, not now he had Arthur with him.

Sighing, Merlin ensured Arthur was safe and entered the tower again. A trickle of magic escaped him and he carefully cleared a gap in the rockfall. Morgana must have supplies.

He climbed through the gap with baited breath, flinching at every noise. But Morgana was no threat to him any longer. He found her sprawled across the floor, her eyes shut and her face pale. But he could see that she was still breathing. He didn't know whether to be relieved or not. She was still a threat as long as she was alive.

But just as she hadn't been able to kill Arthur, Merlin couldn't kill her now. He had to believe there was still good in her somewhere, and he wouldn't deny her the chance to redeem herself.

It didn't take much rummaging until he found a full water-skin and some food. He picked up as much as he could carry and still be able to move Arthur. But before he left, he couldn't resist taking a long drink from the water, feeling the cool liquid calm his sore throat. If he never entered this cursed desert again, it would be too soon for him.

Arthur hadn't stirred by the time Merlin got back outside. He wanted to let the prince rest, but he didn't have the stamina to get Arthur across the desert on his own. He also couldn't sustain a spell for that long, not given his own weakened state.

Murmuring an apology to the prince, Merlin took out the water skin again and splashed a little on Arthur's face. Arthur instantly returned to alertness, blinking rapidly as he tried to get his eyes to focus. They were streaming and Merlin suddenly realised Arthur had spent a few days in a pitch-black room.

He quickly stood in front of the prince, blocking the sun from his vision.

"Sorry," he said.

"Idiot," Arthur muttered. He rested his head back against the tower, and Merlin knew he wasn't the only one who had barely slept. But while he had been consumed with worry, he was painfully aware that Arthur had been battling for his sanity.

Merlin held out his hand. Arthur looked at it for a long moment before sighing and gripping it, allowing his servant to haul him to his feet.

"It's a day's march," Merlin said. "Two at most. Can you make it?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

Merlin smiled wanly. Arthur was right; they had to get away from here before Morgana regained consciousness.

"We'll go slow," he said, handing Arthur the bread he had found in Morgana's chambers. The prince took it hungrily, then paused.

"What about you?"

"Not hungry," Merlin lied with a shrug. It was important that Arthur got his strength up. It was still a long journey ahead of them.

But the fresh air was doing the prince good. Clarity was returning and Merlin struggled not to squirm at the disbelieving look Arthur gave him. Eventually, Arthur shook his head, snapped the bread in half and handed half back.

"I'm not carrying you if you faint," he said.

Merlin grinned and nodded towards the desert. "Ready?"

Arthur nodded and they set off, eating as they walked. Merlin knew that Arthur wanted to get as far away from the cursed tower as he could and if he was honest, Merlin didn't blame him. The whole place felt evil and the shrieks the mandrakes had made when Arthur had cut through them still rang in his ears. At least Arthur had been spared that sound.

Neither of them spoke and whenever Merlin looked at his master, Arthur's head was down. Their pace gradually slowed and Merlin bit his lip, wondering if he should ask Arthur if he needed help or not. He wished he had brought the horse further, but knew, rationally, it never would have worked.

When night fell, Merlin suggested stopping. But, despite looking ready to drop again, Arthur shook his head. Merlin knew how he felt; he too was desperate to get out of the desert and it was cooler travelling by night. They used the stars to navigate their way and grudgingly put one foot in front of the other as the night deepened and then broke into a fresh dawn.

"Look," Merlin muttered. His voice was heavy with exhaustion and his throat dry again – he had encouraged Arthur to drink most of the water. But the sight greeting him made him forget all of that. The forest was in view and he knew it would only take them another hour or so until they reached the cool shade it offered.

Arthur didn't say anything, but his pace picked up a fraction. They were both too exhausted to go much faster, but the forest felt like a milestone – one they were both anxious to reach. Merlin matched Arthur's speed and they trudged on.

As soon as they reached the forest, Arthur collapsed to the ground. Merlin stood over him, breathing the fresh air deeply and relishing in the lack of dust. But when he glanced at Arthur, he instantly dropped to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asked seriously. Arthur nodded, but Merlin could see that his eyes were overly bright. He rested a hand against Arthur's forehead, but the prince instantly batted him away. Merlin knew Arthur's temperature wasn't because of the desert heat.

"We should-,"

"No," Arthur said quietly but firmly. "I can't go on any further. Not today."

Merlin bit his lip. They were still days from Camelot and unless he found where he had tethered his horse, he knew they didn't have the supplies to make it home. But Arthur had spoken the truth – he couldn't go on and Merlin knew that trying to make him could kill him. He nodded.

"We'll set up camp here-," he began. But Arthur had already fallen asleep, curled up in the shade of a tree. Merlin smiled at the sight – he couldn't see the haunted look in Arthur's eyes when they were shut. Shrugging off his jacket, he placed it over the slumbering prince and sat down opposite him.

He knew that he needed to keep watch, to keep Arthur safe from either Morgana, animals or whoever else might be lurking in the forest. But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind when he felt his magic stir and power trickle from him without being conscious of what he was doing.

But Merlin recognised the feeling of safety when it was literally wrapped around him. His eyes flickered and he yawned before he too fell into a deep sleep. But he knew that should anything even think about approaching, his magic would wake him and he would be able to protect his prince.

It was a duty that he wasn't going to fail at again.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry for the delay, real life got in the way!_

 _Only one more chapter after this - I need to get writing, I've got nothing else planned right now!_

* * *

Merlin woke to the feel of cold steel being pressed against his throat. He froze, his heart pounding hard.

His magic should have warned him if there was a threat! If anything had happened to Arthur while he had been asleep…

Merlin twisted to look over his shoulder at his assailant. Understanding broke upon him. There was no threat: there was only Arthur.

Slowly, Merlin leant away from the sword before climbing to his feet. Arthur watched him, feverish eyes staring out at him from a pale face. The hand holding the sword didn't move, but trembled as it fought to maintain its grip.

"Arthur," Merlin said gently, "it's me. You're safe."

Arthur stared at him for a long moment but Merlin didn't move. He could see Arthur's arm shaking and knew the prince didn't have the strength to lift the sword even if he decided to run Merlin through. But Merlin didn't have to wait long until it fell from Arthur's grip. The prince continued to stare at him.

"Not a trick?"

"No, Sire. It's over. You're out of there." It was hard to keep the anger from his voice. Merlin knew it was the fever causing Arthur to react like this. But there was a wild look in Arthur's expression, as if he was doubting everything. After what he had been exposed to for the last few days, Merlin wasn't surprised.

When Arthur swayed on the spot, Merlin knew it was safe to close the distance between them. Arthur didn't resist as Merlin lowered him to the ground and this time, he didn't appear to notice when Merlin took his temperature. He winced at the fever he could feel before staring around the forest, looking for inspiration. He had lived with Gaius long enough to know what herbs would help Arthur. But their main problem was water – the last few drops from Morgana's canteen were gone.

"Arthur, look at me," Merlin said, a firm note infiltrating his tone. He knew what Arthur was like; he knew the man reacted to orders, it was what he had been trained to do since birth. While he was weak, Merlin knew that Arthur would follow his lead without question.

As predicted, Arthur's head slowly rose, although it took a moment for his gaze to focus on his servant.

"I'm going to get you home," Merlin promised. "But I need to find my horse. She's around here somewhere. I won't be long, I swear."

He hated leaving the prince, especially if Arthur was still struggling to distinguish between visions and reality. But without the supplies, they wouldn't make it back. Merlin knew Arthur wasn't fit to walk anywhere. He needed his horse.

Believing that Arthur had understood, he took a step away. But a hand reached out, grasping his wrist so hard that Merlin gasped.

"Don't leave me," Arthur muttered, his gaze darting around frantically. Merlin knew Arthur wasn't properly lucid, but a wave of anger coursed through him. Morgana had done this. She might not have broken his spirit the way she had with Uther, but she had broken through Arthur's defences. Again, Merlin wondered what Arthur had been forced to see in order to make him like this. He seemed vulnerable, exposed in a way Merlin had never witnessed.

"I won't, Sire," Merlin sighed. He crouched down next to the prince, carefully easing Arthur's grip from his wrist. Waiting until Arthur's unfocused gaze was looking at something in the other direction, Merlin reached out. He touched Arthur lightly on the forehead.

" _Swefe nu!"_ He breathed. Arthur instantly slumped, his head resting on his chest. Merlin backed away, his heart once again racing, but when the prince let out a soft snore, he relaxed. Arthur needed the rest and Merlin needed his horse. He knew the prince wasn't focused enough to realise what his servant had done.

Awkwardly, Merlin dragged Arthur into the shade of the tree, making sure he was concealed from anything passing – whether it be friend, enemy or beast. Instinctively, magic rolled off him, casting protective spells that he wasn't aware he knew. The effort left him light-headed and Merlin took a few deep breaths before turning his back on his master.

Feeling guilty over what he had just done, Merlin set off into the forest. But his magic was still active and somehow, Merlin knew exactly which direction he needed to travel in. He hadn't walked far before he heard a soft nicker of a horse. Entering the next clearing, he smiled in relief at seeing the mare exactly where he had tethered her, grazing contently.

She lifted her head as he approached and whined again.

"I know," Merlin said soothingly, "we're going, we're going."

He took the water skins from the saddle and crouched by the small stream that had kept the horse watered while he was gone. But as he pulled the plug from one, he hesitated, then drained the contents. He hadn't realised how thirsty he was until the cool water rushed down his throat.

Drinking his feel, Merlin then proceeded to refill both water skins. He felt stronger as he straightened up, clarity returning to him as the pounding in his head eased. He had thought it was due to his fight with Morgana, his concern over Arthur and the lack of sleep. He flushed, wondering what Gaius would say when he heard his ward's problems stemmed from simple dehydration.

Merlin untied the horse and quickly made his way back to Arthur. He couldn't have been gone longer than a few moments, but he could breathe easier again once he could see Arthur's slumbering form.

Tethering the horse again, Merlin started rummaging through supplies. He couldn't risk a fire – he knew the knights would be looking for them, but he also knew Morgana may have regained consciousness by now.

He ate a little as he searched, knowing he would need his strength if he was going to get Arthur back to Camelot. But mostly he focused on finding the dried herbs he had packed, then identifying their fresh counterparts growing around them.

Once he had collected everything he needed, Merlin pounded the herbs into a paste with a little of the water. He smeared it across Arthur's forehead, knowing it would help control his temperature. He then made a tonic, grounding the herbs until they dissolved in the water. It was difficult with Arthur being asleep, but he managed to trickle a little of the medicine down the prince's throat.

Then he sat back, knowing there was nothing more he could do until Arthur awoke. The prince needed food, water and rest; it was the true cure for what ailed him. Merlin knew he could only deliver two out of the three while they were out in the forest.

Leaning against a tree, he watched his friend sleep. He would give it a little time for the medicine to work before lifting the spell, knowing Arthur would feel stronger if he wasn't still battling a fever. Merlin knew he was no match for Gaius, but if he could at least keep Arthur lucid until they made it home, he could pass over the responsibility for the prince's health to someone who knew what he was doing.

Without realising what he was doing, he reached over and picked up Arthur's sword. Gripping the handle made him feel better and Merlin kept a firm grip on the weapon as he stared into the trees around them, adamant nothing was going to get close to the prince again. He had failed Arthur by letting Morgana take him in the first place, the very least he could do was make sure that Arthur could rest peacefully.

By Merlin's estimation, it was a few hours later when he heard Arthur's breathing become deeper and more rhythmic. Knowing the herbs had taken away the last of the fever, Merlin carefully washed the poultice from the prince's face and lifted the spell. Arthur slept for a little while longer, but relief crashed through Merlin when his eyes opened. They were clearer than before, more focused, and Arthur seemed to immediately know that Merlin was really there.

"Here," Merlin said, passing over the food and water. "You need to get your strength up."

"I'm not hungry."

"Arthur." Merlin knew it was only because he was unwell that meant Arthur had no appetite. His reproach sounded remarkably like Gaius, however, and Merlin knew he was not the only one to think so when Arthur obediently reached for the food again.

Arthur picked a little, but Merlin didn't push it. He knew that days without food would have an effect and it would take a while before Arthur was able to eat his usual portions. But as soon as the prince was finished, he handed the bag back to his servant. With one hand resting on the tree he had just slept under, Arthur pulled himself to his feet.

"Come on," he said, "let's go home."

Merlin thought it was the best idea the prince had ever had.

MMM

Arthur kept one hand resting on the horse, using the animal's solid strength to keep him upright. He wasn't going to admit that he needed to rest, not when Merlin was still plodding on without his usual complaints. But his head was pounding again and every step was getting harder to take. He felt exhausted, and ashamed by his weakness.

Arthur realised that if he kept his gaze locked on his servant, he was able to keep moving forward. But if he let his mind drift, the forest played tricks on him; eyes seemed to be watching them, branches were foes preparing to leap out. He wasn't sure if it was the hallucinations or his fever that was causing him to see things, but Arthur refused to let his gaze stray from the path. He refused to let Merlin see his weakness – again.

But watching Merlin rather than the path had its flaws. As his foot suddenly turned on a rock he hadn't seen, Arthur bit back a cry and tightened his grip on the saddle to stop himself from falling. But he had made enough of a commotion that Merlin turned back, his eyes instantly widening.

"We should stop," he said, hurrying back towards Arthur. "You should have said."

"If you need to rest, Merlin, then do so. I'm continuing on." Arthur knew his servant was only trying to help. But he all he wanted was to get home and sink into a bath. Anything to wash the grime from his imprisonment from his skin. He couldn't admit it though; couldn't voice out loud that all he wanted was to go home.

Merlin watched him shrewdly for a moment.

"You could ride," he suggested tentatively. Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

"We're not tiring out the horse," he said firmly. The idea had crossed his mind more than once, but if there was any kind of pursuit, Arthur knew they would need the mare at full strength to get them away from danger – he was hardly in a fit state to fight and Merlin didn't know one end of the sword from the other on the best of days.

"Arthur-,"

"No, Merlin. We continue on foot." Arthur brushed aside his servant's concern and doggedly put one foot in front of the other. Merlin dropped back to stay by his side and Arthur pretended to ignore the mutter of "stubborn".

They continued through the forest and Arthur felt better having Merlin by his side. Despite sometimes jumping at shadows, Merlin was a brave man – although Arthur would never admit it. He knew his servant would be able to distinguish between a threat and a tree and Arthur didn't have to worry about whether he was losing his mind or not. He just had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

They walked until mid-day, although Arthur could have sworn they had been going longer than that. But then Merlin put his foot down.

"We're stopping," he said, his voice so certain that Arthur forgot to argue. "You need to eat."

Arthur sat down heavily where he had been standing and knew by Merlin's look of concern that his servant had noticed how close to collapsing that descent had been. But Merlin didn't say anything; he busied himself with unpacking some supplies and handing over the food.

Arthur felt hungrier this time and was able to eat some bread and meat without his body wanting to reject the sustenance. Merlin only nibbled.

"You need to eat more than that," Arthur scolded. But as his servant flushed and shifted his foot, a horrible realisation dawned on Arthur. "We don't have more, do we?"

"We have enough," Merlin said defensively, "and you need to get your strength up."

"Merlin." Arthur sighed, putting aside the rest of the bread and realising he was no longer hungry. "We're miles from Camelot. If you don't-,"

"Exactly!" Merlin broke in, his voice distressed. "We're miles from home and if you don't eat, you're going to collapse somewhere and I-,"

Arthur watched his servant closely. Merlin ran a hand through his hair in his agitation and bit his lip.

"I didn't think I would find you," he admitted quietly. "I thought I was too late."

"How did you find me?"

"Luck, and a tip-off," Merlin said evasively. "But what's the point if I can't get you home."

"You won't be able to if you don't eat yourself!" Arthur knew he should have set his servant's mind at ease by making some retort about not needing Merlin to be able to get back to Camelot. But right now, he wasn't certain that was true and he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"I'm not losing you again!"

Arthur blinked. There was raw emotion in Merlin's voice and Arthur suddenly realised he hadn't been the only one Morgana had attacked. Merlin was probably injured, exhausted at the very least, and all he was focusing on was making sure that the prince returned to Camelot in one piece. Arthur swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"It's not your duty to get me back," he said quietly. Merlin huffed a laugh but finally sat down.

"Of course it is, I'm your servant, aren't I?"

"Worst servant ever," Arthur said, nudging Merlin with his foot. He finally got the result he was after as Merlin smiled, shaking his head.

After persuading Merlin to eat a little more (stating they could hunt on the way back, even though they had no weapons and no additional strength to waste on a hunt), Arthur leant against a tree. There was a refreshing cool breeze dancing through the leaves and the prince felt he could rest here a while and be at peace with the world.

But as soon as his eyes began to drop, Arthur heard something that made him sit bolt upright. His movement caused Merlin to start.

"What is it?" his servant asked, but Arthur held up a hand, indicating for the man to be quiet. Slowly, making sure he could combat any dizziness, Arthur stood. Leaving one hand resting on the tree for balance, he reached for his sword with the other. It wasn't in his belt but before Arthur could panic, Merlin was presenting it to him.

Grasping the hilt, Arthur listened hard. There was no denying the sound of horses. Instant fear flashed through Arthur: he knew he wouldn't survive any further exposure to Morgana's magic! But then he realised they were coming from the path ahead, not behind, and he was able to breathe a little easier.

The two men remained frozen though, knowing Morgana was not the only danger to roam the forest. The horses drew closer and closer and Arthur's grip on his sword tightened. Then he saw a flash of familiar red through the trees and laughed out loud, letting the sword fall. His hand wasn't strong enough.

Merlin looked alarmed as Arthur stepped forward.

"What are you-,"

"Friends," Arthur said simply. He knew his knights would have seen his movement; they were too well trained not too. Just as he predicted, they changed direction and were surrounding the pair within a moment.

"Sire!" Leon cried, relief in his voice. He dismounted in one fluid movement, striding forward and offering Arthur his hand. Arthur gripped it, but could tell by Leon's face that his lack of strength was being noted.

"Are you alright?" Leon asked, his voice losing the formality as his anxious gaze ran over Arthur, checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," Arthur said. He shot Merlin a look as he spoke. He didn't want his men to know what Morgana had done, didn't want them to know he was still having a little difficulty separating reality from the tricks his mind was playing.

The rest of the men dismounted, Lancelot expressing his relief they were safe. Gwaine, however, stalked straight past Arthur and reached for Merlin. To Arthur's surprise, he grabbed the servant by the front of the jacket, shaking him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he snarled. Percival and Elyan hurried forward, prising him off. "You could have got yourself killed!"

"What did he do?" Arthur asked. He knew he was missing something. Merlin wasn't even attempting to defend himself. Instead, he looked ashamed and was avoiding everyone's gaze. It had never occurred to Arthur until now why Merlin had been alone when he rescued him…

"He was supposed to wait for us," Gwaine said angrily, "not sneak off in the middle of the night on a solo rescue mission."

Protectiveness swelled in Arthur. "Maybe it is a good job he did, or you might have all been too late!"

Leon paled at his rebuke and Lancelot shut his eyes in dismay. But Merlin offered a small smile of gratitude and Arthur nodded at him. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Merlin had saved him. The least Arthur could do was protect him from his own knights.


	9. Chapter 9

_Part of me has been putting off this chapter because I have nothing else written, or even planned, right now. My muse is refusing to co-operate. Looks like I'll have to watch some Merlin soon to get me back on track._

 _But for now, here is the final chapter. I hope you enjoy it._

* * *

Arthur sat by the fire, staring into the flames. The warmth washed over him, comforting. The longer he sat there, the deeper that warmth went, driving the last of the visions from his mind and soothing his soul. It wasn't a feeling he could put into words, nor did he have any intention of trying to. His men could see that, apart from a few bruises, he was uninjured. He wasn't going to tell them the damage hadn't been done to his body.

"Here." A bowl entered his vision and Arthur looked up to see Merlin offering it. Arthur took it with a nod but as his servant made to turn away, Arthur called him back.

"Why did you do it?"

"I wasn't going to leave you out here," Merlin said, his tone light. But his eyes were serious and when Arthur gestured for him to sit down, Merlin did so without argument.

"You decided to come alone, abandoning the knights? They would have kept you safe."

"Nothing happened to me," Merlin protested. He wouldn't meet Arthur's gaze though.

"It's their duty to protect me," Arthur said quietly, watching his servant. "Not yours."

"It's my duty to follow you around. Even if that means coming after you."

"Merlin-," Arthur broke off, sighing as he rubbed his free hand over his eyes. "You didn't have…I mean, you could have been-,"

His voice refused to form the words. If something had happened to Merlin while he was searching for Arthur, he knew the guilt would never leave him. He spent every day training his men to deal with all manner of situations. But it had been Merlin who had fled the castle in the night: Merlin who had tracked him down. Right now, Arthur didn't want to consider precisely _how_ Merlin had managed to find him.

"I know," Merlin said softly. "But you're wrong; I did have to. And I wasn't hurt. Don't worry about me, Arthur."

Arthur knew what he wasn't saying; he should worry about himself instead. They had no idea what the mandrakes had done to him long term and Arthur suddenly felt cold, despite the fire. Merlin clearly saw his shiver as he stood up.

"Eat," he said, "I'll get some blankets. We should stay here for the night."

Arthur didn't argue. They had been planning to stop anyway. He also didn't protest that Merlin had given him an order and instead just started eating. The food was hot and rich and Arthur felt strength returning with every mouthful he took. Once he had finished, he glanced around. Merlin was standing by the horses, a blanket in his hand, but he was talking quietly to Lancelot.

Arthur shook his head and looked back at the fire. He didn't think he would ever understand his servant. But he knew that if Merlin hadn't found him when he did, Arthur wouldn't be sitting here now. His body might have survived Morgana's attack, but his mind would have shattered with only a few more hours in that room.

"Sire?" Leon crouched next to him. There was a blanket in his arms and Arthur knew that Leon had also noticed that Merlin was distracted. Arthur smiled softly as he took it with a nod. It would have been easy for Leon to reprimand Merlin, remind him of his duties as Arthur's servant. But, just like the rest of them, Leon had accepted Merlin for who he was and that he would do things in his own time.

"Arthur, I-," It was rare that Leon was lost for words, but his knight looked as if he had no way of expressing what was on his mind.

"I'm alright," Arthur said. Leon wasn't just his most trusted knight, he was one of his oldest friends. Arthur knew what it would have done to him knowing that his prince was missing.

"Are you really?" Leon asked and Arthur knew he wasn't fooling the man. He didn't feel well and knew it would be showing in his expression. Leon had spent too long ensuring Arthur's safety and well-being to be fooled now. But Arthur didn't want anyone other than Merlin knowing what he had experienced.

"I will be," Arthur said firmly, closing the conversation down. "How far from Camelot are we?"

Leon took the hint and started explaining their route home. It didn't really matter; Arthur knew he would get his bearings after a decent night sleep. But it distracted them both and for now, that was all that was needed.

It didn't take long, however, for Arthur to be unable to hide how exhausted he was. Leon broke off mid-sentence and smiled gently.

"Get some sleep, Sire."

"I'm not a squire anymore," Arthur protested, "you can't send me to bed."

"Of course not." A grin twitched Leon's face and Arthur smiled back, shaking his head in amusement. He knew the knight was right though; he needed his strength if they were going to cover enough ground tomorrow to make it home before their supplies ran out.

Moving away from the fire, Arthur spread his blankets before rolling up in them. Elyan and Percival were already asleep and Gwaine's hand was resting on his sword as he took the first watch, staring out into the night. Arthur saw Merlin glance around for him, then head his way and bed down close by. Anyone would think that he wanted to be on hand if his master needed him. Arthur thought it was more likely Merlin wanted to be close in case anything happened.

The thought amused the prince and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

It didn't last long though. No sooner had he surrendered to sleep when a sneering face floated in his vision. Merlin's lip curled as he looked at the prince in disgust, his voice hollow and flat as he voiced his displeasure at Camelot's choice of leader, how weak Arthur was going to be-,

"Arthur."

His name was enough to jerk him from sleep. Arthur blinked rapidly, ensuring the Merlin looking down on him was real. His servant smiled softly.

"It's me, Sire. The real me."

Arthur nodded shakily and looked away, not wanting Merlin to see how vulnerable he was feeling. But as a hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, Arthur knew there was no point in pretending. Merlin already knew.

Arthur pushed off his blanket. "I should take a watch."

"There's no need, Arthur, the others have it covered."

"They should take the time to get some rest." Arthur pushed Merlin's comforting hand away and stood up. He would not let this undermine him or break his defences. If they pushed the pace the following day, they could be back in Camelot by nightfall and he could deal with it behind the safety of his chambers' doors.

But he would not let his knights see how unnerved he was. Especially as it was neither his father nor Morgana that were haunting him the most.

Arthur stalked to the perimeter, feeling Merlin's gaze burn into him. He knew his servant was concerned, but there was nothing either of them could do out here in the forest. Arthur wasn't sure there was anything they could do once they reached the Citadel either, but he refused to think on that for now.

He relieved Elyan of his guard, thankful it was the quiet man on duty. Elyan surrendered his position with a concerned look but moved away. Gwaine and Leon both would have argued. Lancelot would have turned to Merlin for back-up.

Arthur had just taken up position when a noise made him glance back into the clearing. Merlin was picking up his blankets and, even as Arthur watched, he moved them closer to the prince again.

"What are you doing, Merlin?" Arthur sighed.

"You might need something," Merlin said, "so I thought I would make it easy for once."

"You? Make something easy?"

"It can be known to happen," Merlin said. He shrugged and climbed back under his blankets. Arthur smiled fondly, knowing that Merlin was ensuring he was close on hand. Not if Arthur needed a drink, or the fire stroked or some other mindless task. Merlin was staying close in case Arthur needed a friend.

The prince couldn't bring himself to send Merlin closer back to the fire.

"Get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow," he ordered. There was no point in them both staying away just because Arthur was afraid of what he would see when he shut his eyes.

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur only realised then just how exhausted Merlin was when his servant fell asleep without complaint or protest. Arthur wondered when he had last got some decent rest and his hand tightened on his sword.

No matter what approached their clearing that night, Arthur was adamant that nothing was going to disturb Merlin's rest.

It was the least he could do.

MMM

Merlin stared absently out of the window, a cloth in his hand.

They had been back in Camelot for two days, having arrived late the day after the knights had found them. They had all been exhausted after pushing the pace all day, but it worked. There were very few people around and they were able to slip into the castle virtually undetected. Arthur had dealt with the guards that had challenged them. Merlin wondered if the news had even spread that the prince had been missing.

But although he had slept deeply since, Merlin felt exhausted. It wasn't his own tiredness that was draining him, however, but Arthur's. He knew the prince wasn't sleeping and was refusing to admit to it. Merlin knew he had to tell Gaius and allow his mentor to deal with the prince, but it felt like betraying Arthur's confidence.

Then again, Merlin also knew that if Arthur thought he could get away with not admitting it, then he would.

He wondered where Morgana was now and whether she had recovered from his attack. He didn't know what he wanted the answer to be and that scared him.

A soft knock made Merlin start but Lancelot slipped into the room with an apologetic smile.

"How is he?" Merlin asked. Arthur had forbidden him from accompanying him to the training grounds, claiming that Merlin had other chores to be getting on with. Merlin thought it was more likely because Arthur wasn't up to full strength and was well aware that Merlin would notice.

"Slow," Lancelot admitted. Merlin had cracked and told his friend what Arthur had gone through. Arthur didn't know that Lancelot knew, and Merlin was aware that the knight would keep it that way. But he hadn't been able to handle the pressure of being the only one to know on his own. Someone else needed to be aware that Arthur's scars weren't physical.

"He's not sleeping, is he?"

Merlin shook his head. It was hardly surprising Arthur's reactions weren't up to speed considering the nightmares plaguing him.

"He won't tell me what he sees," Merlin admitted, "but I think I did something to him. He always has a wary look in his eye until I convince him that I'm really me and not some illusion."

"You didn't do anything to him," Lancelot said. "It was Morgana and the mandrakes. If he saw you, it just shows that he values your opinion."

"I'd rather believe he thought I was an idiot," Merlin muttered, although they both knew he didn't mean it. Merlin had waited so long for Arthur to take him seriously and now it appeared that was being used against the prince.

"Are you going to tell Gaius?"

Merlin made his mind up in that instant and nodded. "All Arthur needs is rest and his mind will heal. But if he won't let himself sleep, then our problems are only just beginning."

Lancelot nodded his understanding before disappearing. They both knew Arthur would be angry if he realised they were discussing him in his own chambers while the prince wasn't there.

Merlin had only just moved from his position by the window when Arthur stalked in.

"How was training?" Merlin asked, his voice false and bright.

"They were weak," Arthur said, sounding furious. He threw his sword down on the table and Merlin hurried over to help him take his armour off. He knew what Arthur really meant; _he_ was weak and he hated it.

"They haven't trained for a few days," Merlin said carefully, "they just need to get back up to speed."

Arthur grunted and dismissed Merlin to fetch his lunch as soon as he was free from his armour. Merlin took his time, carefully putting it away in order to see what Arthur would do. It came as no surprise that he pulled his pile of reports towards him. Arthur felt like he had to catch up on everything he had missed while he had been gone, despite being exhausted.

Merlin slipped out. Instead of going to the kitchens, however, he returned to Gaius' chambers. He was in luck: the physician was back from his rounds and had time to listen to his ward talk.

Gaius grew grave as Merlin told him everything he knew about what had happened while Arthur was missing.

"The physical injuries are healing?" he asked, his hand straying towards his lotions. Merlin nodded.

"They never intended to hurt him, only contain him. It happened days ago, the bruises are starting to fade."

Gaius nodded. Merlin suddenly realised how old his mentor was looking and realised that Arthur's disappearance – and subsequently his own – had taken its toll on the old man. Merlin wasn't going to apologise though; they both knew he would have gone after Arthur as fast as possible, regardless of the consequences to himself.

"If I give you a sleeping draught, can you persuade him to take it?"

"I'll slip it into his drink if I have to," Merlin said. He ran a hand over his face. "Is he going to be alright?"

Gaius crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, my boy," he said, "he's going to be fine. A few good nights' rest and the nightmares will fade on their own. He's making himself worse by refusing to sleep. He's going to be fine."

Merlin took heart from the physician's words and listened carefully when Gaius told him how much Arthur should take. He put the bottle in his pocket and hurried off to find the prince's lunch, wondering how he was going to convince Arthur to take a sleeping draught.

He pondered the question all afternoon. When he fetched Arthur's dinner, he still hadn't come up with an answer. He poured Arthur's wine, hesitated, and left the bottle where it was. He couldn't drug the prince without Arthur's knowledge, not when he knew it was an illusion of himself that was causing the prince all the problems. He wouldn't betray his master like that.

Once Arthur was changed for bed though, Merlin knew he had run out of time.

"Arthur?"

"What is it?"

"I spoke to Gaius today," Merlin said carefully. He knew that Arthur didn't want anyone else knowing what he had gone through. But he also knew that Arthur trusted Gaius and it was only his pride and stubbornness that had stopped him from telling the physician himself.

"You do live with him, Merlin, that would make sense."

"About you." Merlin ignored Arthur's sarcastic remark.

"You gossiped about your prince behind his back?"

"Oh don't be a prat," Merlin said, rolling his eyes at Arthur's tone. "I'm worried about you. We both are."

"I'm fi-,"

"You're not fine. You're not sleeping, you're barely eating! Keep this up and-,"

"Yes, Merlin?"

Merlin recognised the warning note in Arthur's voice but he didn't care. Not when it was the prince's health on the line.

"Then Morgana would have won," he said quietly. Arthur whipped around but Merlin pressed on. He pulled the bottle out of his pocket.

"Gaius says the nightmares will fade." He spoke softly, aware that Arthur hadn't actually admitted to them. "You just need a few nights rest first."

"No."

"Arthur-,"

"I can't."

Merlin understood. It wasn't that the prince wouldn't, it was that he was afraid of what he would see if he allowed himself to fall into a drugged sleep that would be harder to wake from. Merlin stepped closer.

"Yes, you can," he said softly.

"I-,"

"You can," he repeated. "I'll stay with you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I swear."

Arthur's gaze was locked on the bottle and Merlin knew he was considering it. Merlin offered it up, sighing in relief when Arthur took it. He didn't mention the tremble to Arthur's hands.

"You'll-," Arthur swallowed. "You'll stay."

Merlin knew what it cost him to ask that.

"Yes, Sire. I'll stay."

He turned his back, giving Arthur some privacy as he took the tonic and climbed into bed. Then he pulled around a chair, intending to watch over his prince all night if that was what it took for Arthur to get some sleep.

But as soon as Arthur relaxed, Merlin knew he didn't need to worry. Arthur's breathing was even and his face was lax and relaxed. The potion was working and Merlin knew no nightmares would haunt Arthur's rest that night.

He intended to stay by his promise though. He would sit there all night, because Arthur needed him to. When it came to his destiny, there wasn't a lot that Merlin wouldn't do.

Watching Arthur sleep, Merlin felt the tension leave his own body. He could now admit what he had been refusing to acknowledge ever since he pulled Arthur from that tower.

He was going to be alright.

Morgana had lost. Merlin had no doubt that she would try again, but he would be ready for her.

He wasn't going to let anything interfere with his destiny. Not again.

 **The End.**


End file.
